Nice To Meet You
by fadedglass
Summary: She's lived so long this way she's scared to change, but in that change she'll find her true 'self'. One that's not dictated by illness and fear, only acceptance of a kind shes wanted for so long. Rated M chapter 8 onwards.
1. Second Meetings

Perhaps this was a mistake.

Sure, when I had listened to my sister advise me on the 'perks' of speed dating - her and Andrew of course had met at one and were happily married with a kid on the way, blah, blah, blah I thought that it yeah, this could be fun, I mean, what could to lose - apart from my self-respect and the belief I had held onto for 32 years that Prince Charming would eventually find even me_. _I guess there wasn't anything holding me back, Carl and I had been officially annulled two months ago and then there was Will. The Will who if I was brutally honest with myself, I still loved. But things had changed between us, ever since Carl and now Holly (and from what I've heard on the great vine they're still together). So here I was, stood nervously in the small back room of Lima's answer to 'Blind Date' or 'Matchmakers' or whatever game show that humiliated the hearts of those desperately seeking anyone, eying up potential suitors that looked somewhat hygienic, and by that I meant clean. No dirt or dried on food, minty breath, a must if I was going to have to sit there and listen intently to whatever they had to say.

God I'm fussy. _This is why you've not found love Emma._

I looked at the door. Maybe I could just leave, tell my sister I did it and that there was no one, not one man in the entire Lima distract who wasn't already married, or in a relationship that I could see myself with. But in reality I was lonely and I didn't want spend my life alone. Besides, I already had my name badge and table number, maybe I could do this. Maybe, just for tonight I could step out of my comfort zone and open my eyes to the possibility that I, Emma Louise Pillsbury, could meet someone and find my 'Prince Charming after all.

I hunted out my table, smiling politely at both the men and women that I came across. You're all here for the same reason, don't forget that ok? Nothing to be embarrassed about Emma. You're ALL in the same boat. Desperate, horny (I know I may still be a virgin but that didn't mean I didn't want all those things with the RIGHT guy), wanting love, needing love. Sitting down at table number 4 I waited until everyone else had taken their positions, listening intently to the instructions the organizer droned out from the crackly microphone.

"So you put a tick in the box of suitor X if you like them and so on...We're here to have fun guys so just relax and-"

"Sorry, sorry we're not too late are we?"

My eyes widened at the intrusion, recognising that voice from anywhere. My body stiffened and I refused to look round as I heard Will Schuester and whoever he was with (probably Holly, bet they thought this would _just be a laugh_, something 'wild and crazy' to do) find their poll and table.

"Right, well as I've just said Mr-"

"Schuester, Will Schuester".

I heard a few murmurs and then a few giggles from the nearby tables as the women eyed him up and down lustfully. I felt my blood boil as I jammed my fingers into my palm, willing myself to do anything but cry. Of course they would find him attractive but the joke was on them. He HAS a girlfriend I screamed mentally; he's just here for a laugh, hell I bet they even knew I was coming here and wanted to embarrass me further.

"Well Mr Will Schuester, what happens is-"

I heard her list off the same information we had just heard, and I felt the salt was being pushed directly into an open wound. It was humiliating enough to admit to myself that this was the only possible way I had of ever finding love but having to hear the same information again, _we're all here because we've been unlucky in love before, don't worry you're bound to find a match tonight_, repeated for the same man that I still loved, knowing that he was actually here, who had probably already seen me here sat red-faced and nervous – I felt physically sick.

"Right let's begin" the chipper, rather gaunt looking woman announced as she rang the bell, signalling the men to take to their designated table.

It'll be ok, just be yourself and if they don't like you then that's ok. _Because what man wouldn't want a mysophobic, clean freak as their girlfriend. Right? _

"Hi, I'm Paul". I looked up to the tall, dark haired man about to sit down, taking his extended hand as I greeted him,

"Emma" I smiled, thinking that this was perhaps the most nerve wrecking feeling in the world.

I found out that Paul was an architect, grew up in South Carolina, had been married, divorced last year, this was his first time at speed dating, wanted a dog, enjoyed listening to The Beetles, played ultimate Frisbee...

"Sorry I've been talking about myself all this time, what about y-". The bell chime cut him off as I smiled weakly while he apologised profusely, moving to the next table. I took my ticket, sighing as I put an 'X' firmly into Paul's column before glancing down the list; _why hadn't I seen Will's name before?_

The next man who sat down was Dave, a rather plumb looking sort of fella from Massachusetts who had moved to Ohio six years ago on work. He droned on about how bad his life was and when he asked me my occupation I answered enthusiastically, finally happy to talk about something I cared about,

"Guidance Councillor, wow. That must suck listening to people moan all the time." He bluntly stated.

"Hum" I replied, noting the sheer irony of his words.

After three more rounds and three more 'X's; Trevor, the name alone made him sound like a wife beater, not to mention the several tattoo's inked along his arms. The final nail in the coffin was when he said he had baked his cat by accident when he was 8 causing me to very nearly ralph. Definite X. Colin, well he wasn't so bad; works in I.T, has a cat, enjoys going to star trek conventions. But when I told him I had never seen it he looked like a kid who had just found out Santa wasn't real and instantly turned off to anything I had to say after that. John was nearly a tick; primary school teacher for 10 years and enjoyed reading poetry. My pen was about to tick his name until he whispered that he had wanted to 'smack my ass in those jeans as soon as he saw me because I was finnnne girl'. Not sure if that was what he considered 'romantic' from where he was from but I always valued a man's compliment to come from the heart, not from objectification.

After all that I was ready to give up hope. To make matters worse the next 'suitor' was one that was all too familiar to me.

"Just skip to the bar or something Will, please, this is embarrassing enough already without having you here".

I looked up to see him taking a seat,

"Hi I'm Will Schuester". He extended an arm to which I ignored, rolling my eyes in vain.

"Will, please". I begged, feeling shame and embarrassment hit me like a ten tonne of bricks.

"I'll start shall I?' He smiled and I wanted to punch him in the face for making me feel like this; so angry and so out of control. 'Well like I said I'm Will, Lima born and breed, married for five years, divorced now for just over a year. I'm a teacher at the local high school, McKinley, you may have heard of it, director of the schools Glee Club which won the Regional title this year and therefore qualifying for Nationals. Oh and I'm still hopelessly in love with you."

It fell silent for a minute and I could feel him staring desperately at me for a response.

"Are you finished?" I sat facing him , tapping my toe hard against the cheap lino flooring.

"It's true". I heard the crack in his voice and for a split second I almost believed him. Or it was a case of wanting to believe him.

"You're just here for a laugh, Will. Holly drag you along did she? A cheap thrill at other people's expense huh?" My voice was rising considerably higher and people at the nearby tables had begun to take an interest in us.

"Holly's not here Emma, I didn't come with her. And I didn't know you were going to be here, I swear. But I'm glad you are."

"Then who did you come with?" I scanned the room, for who I didn't know but wanting to look anywhere but his beautiful face; can a man be beautiful? If they could he was and I couldn't stand to look at him knowing how much I still loved him and missed him and wanted him.

I saw him thumb back to a few tables, tilting his head towards what looked like Shannon engaging in an arm wrestle with none other than Trevor.

"She dragged me along, said it would snap me out of my 'funk'."

"Oh". I nodded, "and has it?" I tried to discreetly look at his ticket, wanting to know if he had placed any ticks to the women he had met.

"What do you reckon?" he laughed, "the whole reason we were late was because I refused to get out the car. When I said Shannon dragged me here I wasn't joking! She hoisted me out the car and everything!"

I laughed, and for the first time in a long time I felt that we were just Will and Emma again, minus the five piece luggage set.

I was itching to ask him about Holly; if she wasn't around then did that mean - they weren't together? And did she tell him about me and Carl? But the bell rang suddenly and without looking I reluctantly said goodbye.

"Hey mate; it's my turn with red". I looked up, rather startled; knowing that the burly man in the suit whose name was Tom was referring to me. My hair didn't make it exactly easy to 'blend in'.

"Will, you've got to move along" I whispered in a hush sort of tone, knowing that the scene created was escalating into a full on theatrical performance.

"Mate, I'm not asking again, you've got to move along".

'Is there something the matter here?

"This jerk's not following protocol."

"Mr Schuester, the whole idea of 'speed dating' is that you have FOUR minute with each person to see how many possible suitors you have something in common with. Now would you mind moving along PLEASE otherwise I'm going to have to ask you to leave the vicinity."

The whole room had stopped silent as I pleaded with him to just do what the woman (named Jean) who was getting angrier by the second had said. My cheeks flamed red as the eyes of dozens of pairs stared directly at us.

"There's only one possible suitor I have something in common with" he replied without looking at Jean as he stared lovingly into my eyes.

"Sir, I'll ask you once more time".

I heard several 'you douche bag' and 'come on mate, you're ruining this for the rest of us!' come from the crowd but he seemed oblivious to it all as he reached for my hand. Looking around once more I bashfully smiled, letting my fingertips gently touch his.

"Right sir, someone is on their way to escort you from the building immediately if you don't leave on your own will right now".

I saw in the corner of my eye some burly white American that resembled something like that that Paul Blart heading forcefully this way and before getting up and making a run for it he squeezed my hand and mouthed 'I love you'.

The rest of the crowd cheered, no doubt ably because he had finally left and that they could commence with their 'dates' but inside I just wanted to cry.

"Finally" Tom muttered, sitting heavily down as the chatter in the room rose, "what a jerk he was, I'm Tom".

I glanced at him, his sweaty palm held out for me to take but all I could focus on was Will and his words, and the fact that he still loved me.

"Excuse me a minute Tom" I smiled, ignoring the angry daggers Jean was sending my way. I darted out of the building, searching the car park to see him leant against a tree, a huge frat boy grin plastered on his face.

I nudged him, in an attempt to be angry at him and to show him how embarrassed he had made me feel but all I could do was laugh.

"I don't think they'll be wanting me back anytime soon!"

"No" I giggled, shielding the sun away with my hand. "Or me, you've ruined my chance of getting a date now William Schuester."

"I'm sorry." He sulked, and I realised right then just how much I had missed him and how much I wanted to give things another go.

I felt the knots in my stomach twist as I plucked up the courage to ask him, "you and Holly then, it's over?"

"Weeks ago" he replied, though he didn't look partially sad or remorseful about it. "I wasn't over you". He smiled, and this was the first time we had been honest with one another in a long time.

"Carl and I got annulled", although I was sure that this was not new information to him.

"I'm sorry" he whispered, caressing my hand.

"Did you mean what you said in there, that you still loved me?"

"Yes". He smiled replying instantly, "and you were the only tick on my ticket'.

I laughed, a tear trickling down my cheek as I showed him the lone tick on a sheet full of 'X''s next to his name.

"Looks like we may be compatible then" he joked, and I laughed along as well at the reality that it took speed dating to reunite us.

"So, Emma, can I have your number, maybe I can take you out on a second date, get to know you better?"

I pretended to think about it before laughing some more, "I guess so its 07745-"

"614254" he finished, looking at me longingly. "Pick you up at 8?"

I squeezed his hand before turning away, smiling to myself as I shouted back, "8 sounds lovely. It was nice to meet you Will".

* * *

><p>Just a fluffy one shot. Please let me know what you think :) I love hearing from you!<p> 


	2. Preparation

"So I did it". I felt transported back to my high school days, back to the time where my sister would grill me for hours on end about any lad I had innocently conversed with. Of course, being the awkward teenager I was, I rarely found myself 'in conversation' with any boy, unless you counted Mr Jefferson, the English teacher or Andy...But the less said about him the better.

"And how was it?" I could hear the sheer excitement in her voice as I twiddled the phone cord nervously through my fingers. "Meet any fitties?"

"Ple-ase" I scowled, scrunching my nose up in disgust, "you make it sound like I went to a massive meat market with chunks of fit beef and-" I shuddered at the image.

"Come on boo," and I smiled at the familiar childhood nickname I was labelled with at just five years old, "you're entitled, as a woman to look at men objectively. They sure as hell have done it to us for years."

I rolled my eyes, "What's important is personality, not if they're 'fit' or not". I sighed, wishing we could just get back on topic so I could gush about Will and what had happened.

"Fine. I was just saying that it can't hurt to have a good looking man on your arms. Take Carl for instance-"

"Really sis?" I would have rather talked about 'fitties' instead of rehashing over my failed marriage any day.

"He was good looking that was all I was going to say. You said so yourself."

"Do you want to find out what happened or not?" I barked, a little too loudly, causing the heat to rise to my cheeks.

"Relax Ems. I'm sorry, what happened?"

I retold the evening as it happened; starting with the other guys and the disasters I had had with them. We laughed and I purposely left Will's name out, wanting to wait until the end to tell her.

"So it sounds successful then sis!" she sarcastically said, "Trevor could have been the one!"

"Well there was this one guy..." I started, the smirk playing with my lips as I lay on the bed, my legs bent at the knee as they lolled back and forth.

"Why didn't you say so? You swap numbers? What's he like? Nice car?"

My heart fluttered, "it was Will".

I met with a silence that seemed to drag on forever until I heard her cough, "Will? As in Will, Will?"

"He was there, yes."

"Sis-"

"Look I know what you're going to say, it's risky, I know that. Were both not exactly innocent in what has happened recently but things have changed, he's just Will to me now, not Will surrounded by a glowing halo and I'm not Emma with the OCD that fawns over a married man."

"I take it things are off with that blonde floozy he was seeing?"

"Weeks ago" I assured her. "I think things could really work out this time sis". I smiled, and knowing my sister, I could tell her icy exterior towards the whole idea was beginning to melt.

"Then go for it boo. But let me do one thing?"

"What?" I waited eagerly in anticipation.

"Let me dress you ok?" And I knew she could hear me sigh, "no listen, your cardi's and skirts are cute an' all but I have something in my wardrobe that I bought right before I found out I was pregnant that would look AMAZING on you."

"Isn't that defeating the point, you know? I want to go as me, not you. Shouldn't I just wear what I have in?"

"I'm coming round later" and I could tell there was no use in arguing with her, "I promise, you'll love it."

...

"See, smoking H.O.T.T.T." I could see the smug grin on her face as I eyed myself up in the mirror, looking at my body in every possible angle I could. I had to admit I did look good, and never would I have tried a playsuit on before, and especially nothing as revealing as this.

"Are you sure I'm not showing a little TOO much leg Claire?" I tugged at the bottom of the suit which barely covered my behind.

"Boo, look at your legs! Models would kill for a pair of your pins".

"You sure?" I hesitantly asked as Claire rolled her eyes, "I mean what if I see someone, a pupil or a parent, what will they think?"

"You worry wayyyy to much" she laughed, rubbing her swollen belly affectionately as I stood with my palms flat across my stomach, wondering if I'd look like her at 6 months.

"I guess so," checking myself in the mirror once more. I still had half an hour until Will was scheduled to pick me up and I still hadn't found a pair of shoes or an accessory to wear.

"Did you bring shoes?" I asked, my bare toes wiggling against the bedroom carpet.

"Oo I like your nail varnish boo, what's that shade?"

"Raspberry" I replied sharply, rummaging through my jewellery box, "shoes?"

"You'll have to do my nails with this one!" She said, taking the shade from my nightstand, "what did you want, shoes?"

"Please!" I snapped, conscious of the time or lack of.

"Are you kidding, my shoes look like a donated box to a third world country next yours!" I laughed, noting the battered crocs that sat proudly on her swollen feet.

...

Five to Eight and I was ready. The nerves had set in and without noticing what I was doing it, I found myself pacing the living room rapidly, almost burning holes through the carpet.

"Jesus Em, you're making me and the little one sick here with all you're walking. It's like watching Skippy hop across the outback."

And Skippy was how I felt, all the jumps and bumps in my stomach, the jitters. If people didn't know me they would have thought I was next in line at the slaughter house rather than a person about to go on a date with the man she was in love with.

The door bell rang and for a pregnant lady Claire sprang off the couch in such a speed to get the door, 'Show time little sis' she winked and I felt the nausea in the back of my throat intensify.

"Hi there", I heard him before I saw him and when I did I was, well – impressed.

He looked handsome, and casual; a white button down with a pair of dark blue jeans as he clutched a bouquet of lilies in his right hand.

"Will I never knew you felt this way" Claire joked, causing me to blush profusely before I introduced the two of them properly.

"Pleasure" he whispered, shaking her hand before passing me the flowers. The atmosphere was tense, most likely due to my sister stood watching happily on.

"Claire" my eyes widened as she cottoned on to my drift.

"Chucking your only pregnant sister out for a guy boo, I'm disappointed in you." She winked, "See you later Sweet" she kissed me on the cheek and I could feel my little niece squirm against my flat stomach as Claire leaned in. 'Ring us later' she whispered before grabbing her coat, 'nice to meet you handsome' she threw over her shoulder as she left causing Will to laugh.

"Nice to meet you too Claire" he responded, grinning wildly at me. "You ready?"

I double checked all the appliances were off before answering with a smile, "Let's go".

* * *

><p>I wasn't planning to do a second chapter but several of you asked for a sequel so here it is!<p>

Thanks to all of you that reviewed, they really do make my day! :) Next chapter; the date!


	3. Honesty

"You look beautiful" he whispered as he threw the blanket over the grass. He had said the river was 'something to be seen' but under the moonlight, and with the ripples of water that danced so tenderly against the banks, I found the whole setting serene, almost picturesque.

Taking my hand in his he lowered me down, and I kept my other hand on the back of my suit, self conscious of showing a little more than I had planned to tonight. It was a strange feeling, hearing myself referred to as 'beautiful', and I almost asked him to repeat it again because I liked the way it rolled so effortlessly off his tongue, almost as if he had been dying to say it ever since we left my apartment. No, 'beautiful' was something I had rarely, if ever, heard to describe me, perhaps with the exception from Dadda. High school had seemingly thought 'beautiful' wasn't quite the word to describe the ginger swot that endlessly found herself roaming the library catalogue for the following month's assignment.

Yes, hearing Will Schuester call me beautiful made me feel every bit of the woman I wanted to be, and every bit of the woman that was perhaps just enough for him.

"You look as good as always Will", and I quickly gave his bicep a gentle squeeze, blushing profusely as I went from empowered woman to flirty, giggly teenager in approximately half a minute. But he didn't seem to mind though, judging by the way his pearly white harbour beamed so brightly. I relished in his reaction, taking comfort in the warmth of his body as his arm wrapped protectively around my waist.

"I was wondering what you called this".

I tried not to react too enthusiastically as his fingers wondered across my upper arm, "it looks like a dress, but its shorts?"

I laughed, "I had no idea what it was as well. Claire said it's called a playsuit, or a one piece." I added, conscious that Will was just as baffled as he had previously been. "Look" I whispered, turning my back fully towards him and dipping ever so slightly so that my hair fell to the side of my neck, "there's a zipper that runs along the back so you can just take it off whenever you like".

I realised in horror how that must have sounded, and how _inviting _my words had seemed. _Take it off whenever you like. _It had me cringing beyond my wildest fantasies. Yet somehow Will's voice had a way of making light of the situation, and despite the clear, underlying message to his words, "That's good to know", I felt a little more at ease, and it reminded me of that day when his confessions had spilled through my intercom as I learnt of his deepest desires and wants.

That had also been a new first; being wanted, and in such a way that it transcended the platonic nature of our previous relationship that had been filled full of advice and comfort. His motivations had been clear, there was no disputing the fact; _wine coolers, riding bulls_ and if I had heard that message left for someone other than myself I would have felt sickened at the derogatory tone of it. But this was Will's way of telling me that he desired me, despite my mysophobia, the Will, who up until a point I thought had only wanted me because I was unavailable. But his words had been honest and raw, a pent up of emotion that night and I had finally realised that he just wanted me in any shape or form; single, taken, mysophobic or not. And I had gone home that night with the first real smile I had had in weeks.

We lolled in a state of ease as the silence settled pleasantly around us for a minute. We were free from the chains that held us to our titles, and free from the emotional baggage we had carried so heavily on our shoulders for the past few months. We were just Will and Emma and as we lay peacefully on the blanket underneath our weight I felt as though we could achieve anything.

"How far along is Claire?" His tone was inquisitive as he propped himself up by his wrists and I could tell that his was thinking hard and deep, for what though, I had no idea.

"She's 24 weeks" I smiled, sitting cross legged with my back against his side, "You can feel her moving around."

"Her?" His eyes shone brightly, but his smile didn't quite match the expression.

"Isabella they want to call her, Isabella Rose"

"Pretty" he whispered and he bowed his head shamefully as he asked his next question. "Have you felt her?"

"Yes". The honesty spilt from my lips and I could tell they stung by the way his body tensed.

"What did it feel like?" His eyes burned through me as his words came out as no more than hushed whispers.

"Here". I took his hand in mine, ignoring the puzzled look that was carved on his face. I slipped our joined hands gently onto my stomach, placing his down first before resting mine on top. It must have looked strange, and I wondered if just for a moment he had thought in the way I had just done, that in the future he would feel the love of his child kick inside my stomach.

"It was about here in Claire's stomach she kicked me last" and I pressed my hand a little heavier on his so he knew exactly where I meant. "And she squirms a lot" I smiled as my hand tried to show him how it felt.

"Does she always kick when you touch her?" His question was innocent as his curiosity grew and I felt pained that he had once been close to experiencing everything that I had selfishly took for granted.

"Not always" I shook my head, and my gaze dropped, stumbling upon his longing eyes. The intimacy that was unlocked in such a simplistic, innocent sort of gesture as his hand lay pressed against my stomach told me more than any words could ever have done. The graze of his finger, the hope in his eyes confirmed a future made up of understanding and comfort within one another.

"I bet it's beautiful" and he looked straight into my eyes, his sorrow penetrating.

"I want children" I whispered, and it had been the first time I had admitted to anyone aloud that I had thought about having a family.

Yet even for someone as inexperienced as me knew that this kinda talk wasn't typically 'first date'. But perhaps it was because it didn't feel like a first date, more like a rekindling of acquaintances and of past forbiddances that allowed our hearts to show our true desires without the meaningless drabble in between.

"I want to have children with you" and the way he touched my cheek so tenderly when he said _you_ made me feel as though I was the only thing in the world that mattered to him. And for that brief moment he was the only thing that mattered as well.

He drew in a deep breath, plagued by the vast deepness of our conversation as he slowly withdrew his hand from my stomach. It felt a little cooler as the evening breeze tumbled past effortlessly so I scooted closer, missing the warmth of where his hand had just been.

"Can I kiss you?" It was apparent by the hitch in his throat that he was nervous, and yet so prepared so I hurriedly pleaded with him to do so as my body involuntarily became moulded to his.

Taking my cheek in his hand he ran a thumb over my lips and my eyes drifted shut, waiting with keen anticipation for his lips to caress mine. His mouth moved over mine hungrily, our tongues becoming woven together as we pushed further and harder into one another.

It was erotic and passionate and the panted breaths and heaving chests was the only thing to be heard as the last break of light faded willingly to sleep.

And it was beautiful.

* * *

><p>I was overwhelmed by the amount of reviews for the 1st and 2nd chapters. Thank you :) Hope you enjoy.<p>

To Firstlady1408 and EpicWemma I hope this answers your questions about the playsuit, I've also posted a link on my profile of the one I had in mind for Emma to wear :)


	4. Confessions

"Did you use tongue?"

The week since my 'first' date with Will had been plagued by the phone call I received from Andrew the day after, notifying me that Claire had gone into hospital. I was panicked, and worried, finding myself racing out of work almost instantly to be by her side. The morning sickness, or the 'every minute of every goddamn hour' as Claire once so pleasantly put was still going on despite her being 24 weeks in and as a consequence, her body had suffered, becoming too dehydrated and undernourished.

"Claire, come on" I whined, immediately turning my attention to the glass of juice sat on the coaster. Since her stint in hospital Claire had immediately come round to mine, wanting to know everything that had happened with Will, and as happy as I was that she and the baby were doing ok, I hadn't missed the integrating conversations she loved so much.

"I'm not saying" I stated, as her lips pouted together in annoyance.

She moved closer, taking my hand in hers, "Boo, come on, you can tell me".

I nodded as her grin showed her satisfaction. My cheeks burned scarlet red, embarrassed and ashamed to feel this way talking about something as simple as a kiss.

"Hey boo, no need to get embarrassed, wait until all the other stuff comes" she winked and suddenly I felt the air race out of the room. "Have you and Will talked about doing the 'nasty' yet?"

"Claire-" I said sternly, crossing my legs and cradling my hands in my lap. I didn't want to look at her. I was annoyed. My virginity had always been a prevalent topic throughout the years and I had regretted ever telling her the truth that Andy and I had never done it. Perhaps if I had kept up the lie my seventeen year old self had invented she would ease off now but apparently my silence only fuelled her prying.

"You can't keep running away from it Emma".

Colour drained from my face as my failed attempts at intimacy; both with Will and Carl haunted me. I drank my juice fervently, attempting to push my tears away, praying that she'd drop the issue.

"Emma-"

"Just drop it Claire" I snapped, pushing my gaze lower as I felt guilt seep to the surface, "it wasn't you that John pushed into the lagoon it was me. You have no idea what it's like to live like this." I cried and the tears slid down my cheeks mournfully.

"Boo" she whispered, lifting my chin up. Her eyes had softened, clouded over with remorse and understanding. I felt myself being folded into her arms, her hug easing the pain that ached within my heart,

"It's just so hard Claire" I whispered as my bottom lip started to tremble, closing my eyes tightly shut.

"But Dr Shane's been helping you hasn't she?

"Yeah" my lips turned into a small smile, "a little."

"And what do you talk about with her?" Her hands ran through my hair lovingly as she cradled me against her and I felt suddenly protected from everything I felt.

"Everything." I paused, inhaling deeply. "About the accident, and Will."

"And has she mentioned about possibly becoming intimate with Will?"

I drew in a deep breath, embarrassment plaguing me, "yes".

Her eyes were comforting as she placed a single kiss on the top of my head, "and what do you say to her, do you want have sex with Will?"

I sat up slowly, and without realising, I was clamping and twisting my hands together nervously. "Of course I do" I whispered honestly as my tears continued to fall. "I'm just so ashamed."

"Why boo?" she asked softly, her hand squeezing mine in encouragement.

"I'm 32." I croaked, running my palm down my pale, freckled arm frantically with nerves. "And I've never been intimate with anyone like that before." I lowered my voice, fearful of letting go of everything that had anxiously built up inside, "But I want to".

My confession filled the room as the silence crept in, and in between the shame and the nerves, I felt an emotion that was foreign to me; relief.

"How did it feel?" I asked almost bravely and I felt her reach for my hand.

"My first time?" And I nodded, looking directly in her eyes. "Crap" she muttered and I felt my stomach lurch with dread.

"Boo I was 15; underage and naive. I thought I loved him and when it came down to it, I did it because that's what he wanted, not what I wanted." Her tone was sombre and I suddenly felt guilty for bringing it up.

She ran a thumb over my hand causing me to look up, "but with Andrew it was-" and she paused, thinking of the right words.

"Amazing?" I added, the slight shimmer of hope lacing my eyes.

"Mind blowing" she nodded, "I've never cum so hard before in my life."

I winced at her crudeness and she just laughed, throwing her head back against at the sofa.

"The point is boo; when you do finally pop your cherry it'll hurt, but everything else, being with Will in that moment, just the two of you, it will feel incredible because you both love each other. And the rest of it, the good stuff" she laughed as I buried my face in the crook of her neck, "it'll feel amazing all in here." I burst into a fit of giggles as she tickled me in the lower half of my stomach and the apprehension of wanting to lose the big V was out weighted by the fact that it would be with Will.

"Now," she paused, "lingerie".

"What about it?" I asked nervously.

"You need to buy something that'll make you feel a bit sexier for when the time comes."

"What's wrong with the ones I've got, you haven't even seen them!" I felt mildly insulted by the accusation that none of my panty sets were deemed 'sexy' enough. I had a few nice sets, admittedly in the basic blacks, whites and beiges but they were nice.

"I have" and I figured she must have gone prying when I was in the shower earlier, "and they're fine Ems but they're safe."

"Safe? What's wrong with that? Safe can be a good thing" and I ran my fingers along the bra strap I was wearing now, a nude padded one; comfortable and practical, "see, it's not ugly".

"Boo, the nursing bras I've just brought are sexier than that! You need something, a little naughty, not too much, just something lacy maybe."

"Lacy?" I frowned, glancing down at my barely existent chest, "won't that make my chest look even flatter? Aren't I best just wearing something a little more, well, padded?"

"When Will Schuester see's you naked for the first time he isn't going to be thinking your breasts are too small or wow I wish she had wore padding in her bra-"

"No?" My eyes widened and I wondered where she was going with this,

"Hell no! He's gonna be thinking, holy shit, I'm finally gonna have sex with Emma Pillsbury."

"Claire-" my arms wrapped protectively round my chest, partially in embarrassment.

"It's true. It wouldn't matter if you grew another arm or a third breast to him. In fact, I'm sure it would be a blessing." She joked, "the only thing that will matter to him is that you're there, wanting him as much as he wants you."

"But what if I can't do it again?" I whispered, thinking back to that fateful night I had run out fraught and embarrassed on him.

"Boo you weren't ready then." And she tucked a strand of hair behind me ear as I looked up to her sadly. "And when you are Will will be there for you."

"Do you think I should talk about, about," I lowered my voice, "sex, with him. About how I feel and stuff?"

She scooted closer, allowing me to lay my head contently in her lap,

"I think maybe it would be easier to talk about it with Dr Sheen and Will together, that way you can't shy away from the situation".

"Maybe" I responded, thinking deeply until Claire shook my out of it,

"Hey, listen; you can beat this daemon boo. We're all here for you; Will, me, Dr Sheen, I promise, none of us are going anywhere." She smiled.

I closed my eyes, smiling through my tears as I whispered; "thank you".

* * *

><p>Thank you for all the reviews. I really value what each and every person has to say about my writing, and hearing your feedback really makes my day so thank you.<p> 


	5. Support

The sharpness of light invaded the blinds around seven. It was interrogating as it cast fearful shadows around the kitchen almost viciously; the dark, long, horizontal lines standing prisonlike against the stalk, white, walls.

The bleach had almost set on the surface of the cooker, and soon I would be able to scrub endlessly with the packaged electric toothbrush that resided in the cleaning supplies I kept under the sink. I still had the bathroom to do before eleven swung by and I ran repeatedly through the list of which products I'd need in order to maintain a clean and sterilised environment.

The warmth of the sun stopped me for a moment as I removed my rubber gloves. My fingers felt liberated as they nimbly pulled up the blinds, exposing me to the blissful heat of rays the sun let off. I slowly opened the window, allowing the strong scents of a lifetime, trapped by an illness, drift painfully out.

For a moment I felt as though I was free but the alarm went off, bringing me back to my reality. The bleach was set. I reached for a packaged pair of gloves, attentive in my preparation for cleanliness. But I left the window as it was, a reminder of the hopes I held for that one day when this illness would no longer trap me as a prisoner.

...

I was exhausted as I tugged fretfully at the door handle, my lack of sleep evident. My other hand gripped tightly around Will's, my need for reassurance and comfort pressing deeply into the palm of his hand. Dr Shane welcomed us both, smiling pleasantly as she offered us a drink. I politely declined and I envied the ease in which Will took the glass of orange so effortlessly, not questioning how or where the glass had been washed, or if it had been sterilised efficiently so.

"So Will", Dr Shane (or Penny, as she sometimes insisted she be called) began, sitting down easily in her chair as she folded one leg on top of the other, smiling warmly at me before directing the conversation towards Will. He had no qualms about coming along he had reassured me when I brought up the topic five days preceding the session. Yet I still felt edgy with him being here. I felt as though my flaws lay nakedly exposed to his and everybody else's judgemental eye. The anxiety hit me excruciatingly hard, the worry plaguing my mind that he'd see too much damage already inflicted on me, too much damage that he couldn't cope with.

"Emma's explained why she wanted you to come with her today has she?"

He waited a moment before answering, his eyes quickly scanning mine and my insecurities about being so open and so honest bled through my gaze.

"Not exactly no, but I wanted to come." His answer was honest, and I felt the reassurance I craved as he reached over to touch my hand gently. "For you" he whispered.

"Emma," her aqua blue eyes shone through me fondly and I saw much more than a psychiatrist in her. I bit my lip in shame as the regression of progress I had made with her lay sparklingly evident throughout my condo. "Do you want to tell Will why you wanted him here today?"

I looked over to him and his smile warmly invited me to spill my most hidden fears. I felt embarrassed, twisting my hands uncontrollably in my lap as I dared to tell all. 'I trust you'. I whispered through broken tears, 'and I wanted to ask you something'. My head hung low in discomfort and sensing so, he grabbed my hand firmly in his much larger one.

"Go on Emma". Her voice was soft and calming; much like it had been when we spoke about this topic in our last session.

"I just, I want so much and I'm, I'm so scared." I sobbed, snatching my hand back almost aggressively as I jammed the balls of my hands into my eyes. My breathing became rushed as I reached for the Purell in my bag, trying to squeeze the hand gel frantically out. It was hard and so embarrassing to feel so uncontrolled and I hated what my life was.

"Oh Emma."

As I felt Will reach for me, his hand trying to assist me to open the bottle I heard Dr Shane's firm voice advising him to give me space. He seemed a little stunned as uncertainty pulled him back to his seat but he remained patient while I tried to put my shattered pieces back together again. Once opening the bottle, I rubbed my hands methodically four times.

A short time had passed before Dr Shane began to speak, noticing that my breathing had regulated again.

"Will" Dr Shane paused, glancing once at me before continuing, "you can't always jump in and protect her. I know it hard but you can't always be there for her, every minute and every hour."

"But I want to be", my chest heaved with a mixture of both elation and fear, "I'll always want to be with her".

"And that's great Will' her tone sincere, 'but what you must understand that while as romantic and as noble as that sounds, Emma needs to find ways of coping with her OCD. You can't always be the one to jump in and save her. By doing so, she becomes dependant on you, and it allows her to deny the problems there if you are participating in the actions, such as helping her sanitise her hands. I think it's truly wonderful that Emma trusts you enough to be with her during this session but I need you to look at this disorder practically, not through your heart."

I saw his eyes slightly water and I felt guilt consume me rapidly for dragging him into my crippling state of being. I knew that Dr Shane had only my best interests in mind and her words were true. As much as I wanted Will to help and comfort me when things got too hard, I knew I had to find ways of managing on my own, with him acting as a support, not a fixture to my damaged goods.

His hand rubbed the side of his face, a lump forming in the back of his throat as he croaked out a response, "I just want you to find a way to beat this thing Emma, for you. And I'll be here, as a friend, and as something more, as little or as much as I should be to support you."

I felt overwhelmed by the sweat sincerity of his words and I turned to him with a wave of absolute devotion, thankful to have him here, right in this very moment.

"I'm glad Will" Dr Shane smiled as she turned towards me. She was encouraging without being forceful and I felt a little empowered as I reached cautiously for his hand.

"It's hard Will, living like this. It's so hard and yet it feels so safe". I exhaled in exhaustion. "I don't even remember what it's like to go without a shower for a day or not having to worry about the slightest spill of sugar without bringing out the vacuum and then the wipes." I cried, 'I spent five hours cleaning this morning' I shamefully admitted, avoiding the empathetic glare from both Dr Shane and Will, 'all because I was so scared of you coming here with me, seeing how bad this thing is.' I scratched my cut down nails sharply across the lower part of my arm, anger and frustration leaving their print on my porcelain skin.

He listened patiently as I continued, the words becoming relief as I spoke in depth about how I felt. Dr Shane helped me, her words comforting as I began to talk about the future.

"I see a future with you Will, but I'm scared."

"Scared of what?" He was hesitant in his reply, cautious not to voice anything that would make me forget about the future and just want to reside blissfully unaware in his arms.

"Sex" I whispered painfully as I screwed my eyes tightly shut.

"You want to have sex Emma?" Dr Shane interjected as a precaution to aid our discussion,

"Yes" I replied honestly, staring into his loving eyes, "but what if I never can?" I cried somberly.

"But you want to" he whispered, dragging his tired some finger along the supple skin of my chin.

"Yes, with you".

I saw relief wash over him as I dared to open my eyes.

"Does sex matter to you?" I asked him, feeling my heart beat quicken.

"Yes" Will nodded, turning shamefully away while I soaked up his honesty, appreciative that the sugar coated fantasies we had once so desired of one another had melted away.

"I do want to be able to do it Will"

"I want you to feel ready".

"Are you ready?" My voice wavered a bit, fearful of my inexperience.

"Yes."

"I'm not". The tears rolled down my face with humiliation as I turned away to face the wall.

"Then I'll wait until you are Emma. There's no pressure, just me here, ready for when you're ready."

"But what if I never am?"

"Emma" I looked up sharply as Dr Shane began, "you've been coming to these sessions two times weekly for the past two months now and I've already seen little changes in your behaviour." She smiled. "This isn't a quick fix solution but I am hoping that the things we talk about in these sessions will help you manage somewhat to break out of the routines you have established."

My eyes pleaded with her, "do you think I'll ever be able to have sex?"

"You said you wanted to didn't you?"

"Yes"

"Like every routine, we'll help you establish ways of working round them, sex included. If this is something that you want, which I don't doubt you do, then we can devise a way to make you much more comfortable when the time comes to being intimate."

"Is there anything I can do, or read, to help?" His eagerness swelled my heart as Dr Shane passed him a pamphlet,

"This isn't a manual Will but what it does provide is a list of do's and don'ts. I'd like you to read it and if you have any further questions I'll be more than happy to answer them ok?"

He quickly scanned over the information before placing the papered booklet in his back pocket, "Thank you Dr-"

"Call me Penny" she intercepted, "and I'm sure I'll see you again sometime soon, goodbye Emma".

...

The silence plagued our footsteps as we made it outside and I tried to cling onto the last shed of decency I had as I willed myself not to cry.

"Emma" his tone was patient which only fuelled my sorrow as he held my hand, rubbing his fingers lightly across my knuckles, "You can beat this thing. And I promise I'll do everything I can."

I tried to hide my fears that one day it would get too much for him, that he'd leave me but he seemed to sense my discomfort before I could voice it.

"I love you" he whispered, dropping a kiss to my forehead. "And I know you can do this. I'll be here for you every step of the way".

I cried, emotional from his declaration and I wanted desperately to believe that I could. I took both his hands in mine and stared tearfully into his tender eyes,

"I love you too".

* * *

><p>Thank you for all your reviews, they really mean so much to me and I love hearing what everyone likesdislikes in my work. I'm always looking for ways to improve! I haven't had any experience with a psychiatrist's conversation before so if this isn't a realistic portrayal or there's something wrong, please let me know!

Just on a side, this, and the next few chapters have and will deviate from the fluff for a while, focusing more on Emma's journey through her OCD as she begins to consider becoming intimate. (Claire will be back though!) How intimate, you decide (though I won't be rushing them into having sex anytime soon!) If you could leave your response in your review that would mean a lot.


	6. Doubt

"Did you mean it?"

We were sat at the table, the flickering candlelight dancing around us as we sipped our glasses of wine leisurely over dinner. I looked over to him, his eyes softening as they met mine. It had been three days since he attended my therapy session with me and between looming deadlines and glee club rehearsals for Nationals, this had been the only time we had to our selves; a Friday date night at his place.

"Meant what?" My confused expression stood abruptly on my ivory skin.

"That you loved me." His confession was but a mere whisper, a secret that imploded on the veiling darkness.

My lips pursed in affection, "of course I did". My statement was proud, dwindling in a current of desperateness almost instantly once I saw his head drop forward in melancholy, "why, do you think I made it up?"

"No, it's just-" The way he cut himself off indicated there was more to come, an issue, a problem that he needed to get off his chest; an issue about me. And that scared me.

"Have I done something wrong?" I queried, rubbing my hands together anxiously as I waited for him to deliver my fate.

"You've never said it before." He paused, recollecting his thoughts, "that you loved me".

"Well I do", I grinned, grasping hold on his hand tightly, "I love you".

He was still so silent, and as afraid, as the shadows haunted his face mockingly. He hesitated a moment before mumbling, "It's just, I've been waiting for you to say those words for so long, it kind of feels" He shrugged before taking another painful breath, "I don't know!"

I leaned closer, knee to knee and hands entwined, smiling brightly at his gorgeous face, "surreal?"

"I guess" he whispered, drifting his gaze quickly to our hands before turning his attention back to me, "I'm just glad I know how you feel now."

I pulled back, unsure to his words, "what do you mean?"

He was silent, and the glasses of wine that drank so easily through the evening were now just empty voids. His husky tone broke the lasting tension that swarmed dangerously round us, "I've never known how you've felt before".

"That's silly Will." I exclaimed, smiling with baited breath, "you've known since, well, for so long how I've felt about you."

He was unsure of himself, his hands jammed into his pockets. Even in his state of sorrow he still looked beautiful, the chiselled lines that defined his cheeks so wonderfully were almost drinkable in the sea of candlelight, "no I haven't".

"But Will- the entire school knew how I felt about you, Terri your wife knew, Ken knew, Holly, Sue- I could go on. How could you have not known?" I questioned, pleading urgently into his devoted eyes.

"You've never told me yourself how you feel about me, and about us."

I paused, taking a moment as he found his voice again, "you've always run away when I've asked you."

"That's" I coughed, clearing the uneasiness in my throat that taunted me so effortlessly, "that's not true Will. That day-" I winced, the tortured memories of that moment where my disillusioned fantasies of a happy ending shattered around me at the drop of a hat. Or at the drop of Sue's words. "When I found out about April and Shelby, I told you how I felt then, and how much you hurt me. Surely you could have seen how much I loved you then Will, from the way I acted?"

He smiled softly, disquieted at my words, "I'm sorry about that".

"Sorry about what? April and Shelby? Or the fact that your insecurities have been based on nothing?"

I was agitated as my emotional wounds reopened and I willed myself to stay strong.

His breath became heavier as his eyes drooped shut for a moment, "Shelby and April- Shelby was just a stupid mistake and April well, it was sleeping, nothing more, but I know how emotionally painful that was for you and I'm sorry."

I paused, his confession a month earlier when April had made a reappearance at McKinley about their 'night together' replayed heavily in my mind, "but then you're not sorry about tonight?"

"No".

"Oh". I trailed off, taken aback by his lack of emotive response.

"After that day Emma, the next day, I came to you apologizing."

"Yes-" I hesitated, tucking the coppering strands of hair past my ear, 'you brought me flowers'.

He nodded solemnly as he recalled the day, "You said to me that if our relationship was to work then we need to see ourselves honestly." His eyes clouded over with tears as his tone wept with sorrow. "Then two weeks later you're dating Carl".

His features hung lowly in the candlelight, a sea of apparent grief crashing vigorously against his beauty and I caught a tear trickling down his cheek, my guilt intensifying destructively inside of me.

"I had just thought that because you had said that, and all the signs over the months we had been close- then for you to suddenly date someone else, then _marry _them. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't doubted every feeling I thought you had since."

My gaze hung low, shame washing through my fragile body, "I guess sometimes" I choked a little but with a fierce determination to shed honesty, "I get scared by how much I feel".

His lips turned a little, encouragement pursed in the lines of his mouth as hope coursed through him.

"I can see why you're confused". I continued. My statement was fuelled by the rawness of honesty I wanted to offer him.

He glanced across to me slowly, taking my hand delicately within his, "why do you run away?" His fingers pressed gently into mine and I could no longer deny him the truth.

"I get scared sometimes" I smiled woefully, "that maybe I'm not good enough, that I shouldn't have the feelings that I have".

"But that's silly Ems", and I smiled momentarily at the familiar nickname, "everyone deserves to feel what they want to and to go after what they feel. Why should you be any different?" He raised an eyebrow, soaking in my desolate expression, his hand offering a comfort to my cheek.

"I've lived with this thing all my life Will; I've known how other people see this, this thing. They think it's stupid, pathetic, and freakish. People haven't wanted to get to know me and understand me because of it". I choked, not wanting to spend any more tears on a topic that remained a painful reminder of the past. "And when what happened with you happened, I presumed it was because of the same thing. And so I ran. Again."

"It wasn't." And with the deep sorrow in his eyes I believed him, knowing that our time hadn't been ready just then. His hand crept up my arm, his callous fingers rubbing gently on my lower arm and I felt loved in his affection. "And I don't think its pathetic Emma, not in the least."

I smiled at his words, the honesty radiating from them.

"And I want you to tell me how you feel, good, bad, I want to know. I want you to feel comfortable enough so you can talk about these feelings you have ok?' His voice held an optimism I struggled to hold. 'Do you want to?"

I nodded sincerely, pushing out my fears of rejection and abandonment that plagued my mind, focusing instead on the here and now. 'Of course', I whispered, folding my hands neatly into my lap.

"Good" he announced as I felt my eyes wander to his lips, my own lips missing the texture and taste of him.

"Is it ok to feel like I want to kiss you now?" My cheeks reddened uncomfortably, bashful in my first admittance of feelings that I would soon come to share.

His hands scooped the hair from my face, and I felt beautiful in his eyes as he smiled dreamily at me. "Yes" he whispered, his lips edging towards mine before landing there fully.

It felt dream-like, the admissions of our hearts lay bare before us and I began to believe that maybe someone was capable of loving me. All of me.

* * *

><p>Your words of encouragement mean everything. I'm so grateful to all of you that have told me what works and what you've enjoyed. It's great to hear back from you. I hope this chapter was ok, it was rather difficult to write but its beginning to set up the root of Emma's problems and open the doors for some hopefully refreshing and more intimate moments between Will and Emma. Thank you again to all those who have reviewed, and I hope to hear from you all again.<p> 


	7. Blame

(Based on the loss at 'Nationals', only there isn't as much happiness about finishing '12th'!)

* * *

><p>The choir room rang with nothing but the sound of the click of my heel and the silence of a dozen solemn faces. Each member saddened as the next. They had lost that sparkle, the one that usually lit up their eyes so wonderfully every time they sung or smiled. Only depression met with them now, a darkness drawn so harshly on their youthful souls as the realisation of their improperness and lack of planning hit them, deflating the possible win they had craved so badly.<p>

And for that, I knew he'd blame himself.

"Where's Mr Schuester guys?"

Puck glanced slowly up to meet my question and I caught several of the kids cast blamed glares towards newly reunited Finn and Rachel.

"He's in there" he nodded, slouching back in his chair. His pretence to retain how little he was affected by their defeat was flawed. All of their faces were, breaking my heart even further.

"Thank you Noah".

"But I wouldn't go in there". He added, gravely glancing up, "he's been in there for the hour, locked the door when Romeo over there went to check on him".

His snarl at Finn rattled the group, causing more hardened looks towards the couple.

"Guys, why don't you spend the remaining few minutes of class in the library yeah?" I smiled, whilst the wavering drops of optimism retreated, "I'm sure Mrs Lunn while be so pleased to see you, just keep the noise down ok?"

They shuffled off, dragging their defeat heavily across the floor. I felt so bad for them, but the sinking despair I felt flailed in comparison when I turned to look at him.

His light had gone.

I tapped on the door hesitantly; our only communication between the results and their return to Lima was a text saying that they had lost and that they were on the flight home. That had been yesterday and my somewhat lack of experience read that text to mean' give me space'. So I did.

"Will". I shouted, just loud enough so he could hear me.

At first he seemingly ignored me, burying himself further in unwritten songs and blank sheets of paper. But soon enough he stepped up, flicking the lock open before collapsing back in his chair without so much as a look or a hello.

"Will. Will- please look at me".

His eyes were fixed on the FedEx wrapping that sprawled across his desk. He had clearly ripped it open in rage and I saw behind him the crumpled contents of the package.

"What is it?" I asked, trying to glance further behind him, "it looks like a t-shirt".

"It is". And that was all he said, tapping his pen hard against the wooden desk.

"Right" I elongated as the tension split in floods across the room.

To my obvious awkwardness he spun around, meeting me with red rimmed eyes and a fresh set of tears about to fall. He reached out for a hand and ushered me closer, wrapping his arms tightly round my waist, sobbing audibly into my abdomen.

"It's all my fault" he began, clutching tighter, "if I had been there more and not bloody gone off- and if I had rehearsed with them more- and then that bastard Goolsby sends me that, the smug little prick. 'Great win New Directions'. Fucking prick."

He was upset, and I knew the blame would cement itself to him.

But he was a dreamer and this given time in New York had showed him that a passion and a love of people can become just as important as dreams. I believed in his talent, just as much as he believed in theirs and I hoped one day he'd forgive himself for taking a little longer to realise that.

"God, why was I so freakin' stupid? Getting the kids to write the songs in New York? Who does that?"

My hands ran through his hair, kneading the curls in a desperate attempt to sooth him. He remained cradled in my arms and lay so exposed that the thought of this reversed scared me. I had opened up to him through therapy sure, and the night we discussed our feelings for one another but the thought of everything else, all that closeness and vulnerability in front of another was terrifying.

Whenever things got that hard I ran away.

But I was sick of running.

"You're wonderful Will, and such an amazing role model for these kids."

He raised his head; basking in my words as I small smile appeared on his lips.

"And you weren't ready for Nationals. Look at the weeks before, Prom, Jean's funeral; you didn't have time to fully rehearse. But you know what, you are the winners in your own right. You and those kids of yours did all those wonderful things because you care so much about others. You helped Figgins out when Air Supply let him down and gosh Will, after everything Sue has done, and for you to be so amazing for her sister, and for her, my heart aches so much because you're such a beautiful person Will."

My words lulled in the air, drowning out the uneasiness and despair that crowded the room when I first entered. His response caught me off guard, his lips assaulting on mine in a grand gesture of appreciation and need.

"Wow Will" I panted, and I brought my hand between us, still a little taken back by his lips.

"I've never loved you more".

I nodded sadly, kissing him gently on the forehead until the tension eased out of his body. "And I need you to love yourself Will, just like you teach those kids to love one another, and how you're teaching me to try and love myself".

"Which you should have done by now" He whispered, running his finger along the bridge of my nose, "you're so easy to fall in love with".

I sighed at his naivety, knowing that it would never be that easy. But I smiled anyway, coaxing my head as his firm lips captured mine again.

I should have been honest then, but he needed me in that moment more than I needed him and I loved him more than I ever would myself or who I was.

His love was my first step of accepting who I was, warts and all, and accepting that it is possible to love myself, even if others hadn't been so ready to love me before.

* * *

><p>Apologies for the lack of update - exam season has been hell at uni but I'm finally free and so hopefully the wait between this chapter and the next won't be as long. I don't want to beg or pester people but hearing your reviews make my day, truly they do.<p> 


	8. Realisation

The end of term finally brought round prosperity.

Sunlight freckled the days longer, allowing what time we shared to grow. With this growth, the anguish of defeat began to trickle away from him and his frustration of spontaneity in New York began to ease.

And so Friday night found us sat across the table from one another at _Stormy's_, he with his third beer in hand, myself with my second vodka and cranberry of the night. Relaxation had settled as his eyes shone adoringly onto mine, and I blushed hard, blending into the red Valentino dress I had chosen for the occasion. He casually took a sip of beer, using his other hand to caress the back of my hand gently. It was these touches I craved for the most, intimacy in such a simplistic manner. And yet flourished innocence still pronounced itself to me.

Acceptance was still needed.

"And when I was 17 me and the lads, gawh, there must have been 15 of us or something, we all crowded into Stevey Watsons basement. Drinking games, I must have downed about 12 of these in the space of 10 minutes or something." He patted the beer in his hand. 'I've never felt so ill, and my dad, well, he nearly battered me!' He laughed, rubbing his eyes lids with the pads of his thumbs as he relived the memories he treasured.

It was endearing to see him so enthralled about something, so magical to see his eyes twinkle a shade of blue that sang the wonders of his past so effortlessly. I envied his past youthfulness and mourned the sobered years of mine. With one last sip I slammed the empty glass on the table, feeling already a little light headed.

"We should do a shot" I announced, giggling with a new found excitement. He looked on in bemusement as he called over the waiter, ruffling the curls on top of his head as he ordered our drinks.

As the rigid routines of fear and shyness became subdued to alcohol, the potential of tonight played out in my head. The serene possibility of 'normalness' arose, beckoning my body out of its purification.

I felt loss at my own life, despondent of what I could have been, and pained by who I wanted to be.

Challenging myself, tonight was the night I wanted to change.

"Cheers" I chimed, bringing the two glasses together as we toasted the start of the night.

...

"Do you remember when we first met?"

It was more of a clarification than a question. I knew for a fact he remembered and the woollen material hung as proof in my closet. He laughed quietly to himself, swinging back lightly as the cool night sky flurried around us. Abandoning the bar just shy of 11, we strolled along the moonlit streets to clear our heads, finding ourselves by the swing set at the local park.

"Why do you laugh?"

"Come here". His tone was serious, and had I doubted his love, I'd of felt riddled with nerves. But there was no such doubt as he held out his hands, wrapping each individual finger securely round my waist until I was stood centred between his parted thighs. Cautiously, he lifted me up, and I found space on his lap to sit. The closeness brought a delightfulness that reached my lower half as my legs slid out the back of the seat. It was erotic, how easily turned on I was by such a simplistic touch. Untimed and out of control my body crashed forward, our most intimate of parts pressed together so lovingly. The heat rose to my face, and the blessed darkness veiled that secret from ever becoming exposed. The setting of captured innocence became filled with unexplored desire, a vision of desperate want and need. It was of a different innocence but one of which remained just as precious. It was the growth of girl to woman, of innocence to experience and we had barely shared a touch before it would become too much.

"I thought you were beautiful" he whispered. It took me a moment to clarify what he meant, having spent the last few moments recollecting our situation, our current closeness. My fabricated confidence slipped with each sobering minute as who I was and wanted to be collided.

"Will?" I had to ask, even though I was plagued with guilt. It was just words, but communication had been eradicated so early on in my life that I struggled with the fear of admittance.

"Yes?" he answered, reaching for a tassel of red hair and sweeping it behind my ear. His hand met his other at my back, pulling my body closer to his. My head fell to his shoulder, burying myself in the man I loved. I wanted to give him more, so much more.

"Did you ever think about me when you were with her?" I let out the sigh of relief against his ear, feeling his own breath mingle against my neck as I waited in anticipation.

"I didn't want to".

Saddened in empathy I nodded.

"Neither did I".

The confessions were simple and yet so difficult. It was an understanding of the other, a prevalent excuse to exchange closeted thoughts we had had. Had they been wanted? They shouldn't have been, and yet they still came; tossing us around in the night, allowing guilt to seep in as we looked at our respective partners the following morning. It was the way it was so yielding and so powerful that made it difficult to comprehend. But when I did it was simple.

We wanted each other.

"I'm sorry". It was unsure who his words were directed to, whether it was to himself or to me. Either way, I spoke, confession spilling off my pursed lips.

"I wasn't." I blushed, running my fingers gently down his cheek as he looked towards me with a saddening smile.

'There was just something different about you'. He closed his eyes as his words took their effect on me. I pressed my lips lightly to his temple as he continued, 'something mesmerising, I couldn't take my eyes off you'.

"Love at first sight?" I intervened. Hopes eradicated at his next words.

"No. But you were beautiful." I held my head tightly to his shoulder, embarrassed by my presumptions. For me it had been love, or what I knew love to be at the time. But I didn't hold it against him. Love was more than just an impulse and it had only been recently I had discovered that so.

"Beautiful." I toyed with the word a moment, taking in its implications, wondering if his thoughts had been more than innocent.

"How did you think of me?" Curiosity encouraged my questioning as I allowed myself to think over the times I had envisioned his body gliding over me feverishly as his hands roamed every part of me. Suddenly who I wanted to be took over and the fragility of my innocence became paralyzed in its wake.

"Emma, I don't think we should really be talking about this. We've had a little to drink and I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable".

"You don't feel uncomfortable".

His breathing hitched as he continued to harden against my clothed centre.

"I used to think about you. All. The. Time." As I punctuated my words I pressed into him that bit harder, enjoying the pleaded whimpers that spilt from his soft, plump lips.

His eyes lusted over as he brought his hand to my thigh, pushing my dress ever so slightly up. It was barely a touch when his hand lightly grazed the inside of my thigh but I felt myself become wetter. He dragged his nails back and forth, using his other hand to lever me closer into his need. I rubbed back and forth, closing my knees around his back, unsure what I was doing but feeling him harden at every move.

"I used to think this Emma, and so much" he panted, "so much more". His hand left my thigh, running up along my ribcage to my breast. My nipples were already hard, even as I continued to grind into him. I needed more, and so did he. I wanted to know what it all felt like, to feel how it felt to have someone move inside of me, and to touch me. I threw me head back as he buried his face in my chest, his nose then his mouth rubbing across my breasts.

I had never felt this good and inexperience threatened it all.

He continued to press into me and I met his thrusts, clamping my legs further around him as I absorbed every moment we touched. His breath became ragged as I continued to grind into him, my wetness becoming almost unbearable.

"Oh God" I heard him moan, his eyes flickering between being open and closed and I stopped moving for a moment, taking in his moistened brow and tightly gripped hands.

And then I knew.

His breathing slowed and his eyes opened, meeting the wide lidded ones of mine. Fear gripped my body, knowing that I had just made him cum in his pants and not knowing what to do or how to handle it I panicked.

"Emma!" He shouted, as I shakily ran away from him without so much as a look back.

It had felt too right and in that, it was wrong.

...

I cried long after the shower went off and long after I peeled back the quilt. My phone flashed brightly. Three separate messages were on the screen.

_Emma, oh God answer your phone._

_Please Emma, I'm sorry I just- Please call me. I'm worried. _

_I know you don't want to see me but just let me know you got home safely. I love you. _

His messages made me cry harder, and the guilt of something he had no need to be sorry about kept me awake half the night.

I typed two messages that night, both to different recipients.

For Will,

_I'm so sorry. _

The other,

_I need to see you tomorrow, I need help. _

...

_There came a time when the risk to remain tight in the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom. _

~Anaïs Nin

"I was surprised to get a text message off you so early this morning Emma". Dr Shane tilted down her glasses, while she scrolled through her phone, "1.08 a.m. to be precise".

"Sorry" I muttered, looking down at my blistered arm, as the bags of guilt hung deep under my eyes.

Do you want to tell me what happened?'

The easiest answer I could formulate was no. And my pause said as much.

"Emma, something must have happened for you to contact me at such a late hour. And for you to use the word_ help_." She emphasised the word _help _before pausing for a brief moment while she pushed the tip of her glasses back onto her nose. "And I am here to _help_ you." She reassured me, if not herself that I wasn't just yet beyond help.

"I'm failing" I whispered, my confession rippling through the silence as all I had ever felt about myself fell in just two, short words.

"And what do you think you're failing at?"

Everything, if I was to be truthful with her and myself. But I wasn't, and I sheltered my pain yet again, a fear of sounding out every trouble I had felt, leaving me stripped of anything familiar. Fear wasn't desirable, but it meant I wasn't always so alone.

"Because it should be easy, it should be so much easier than it is and it's not". My broken phrases were fragmented thoughts, pieced together in a delirious state. "And I really want it, and I wanted it last night but I couldn't".

"Emma, I need you to take a deep breath and explain what happened last night. What happened last night that you wanted?"

Will.

I looked down at my arm. Scolds of red blotched together with peeling new skin that bled a story of my life. The shower had hit hard this morning, and as my hand increased the 'hot' dial I could barely feel the steam and water blister my skin. It felt incomparable to the pain inside as I let myself cry again, for Will mostly, and for myself. I had collapsed in the shower, sliding against the porcelain side as the water pelted against my back. It was only now, as Dr Shane began to un-pluck the pain inside that my outer pain re-entered, rubbing painfully against the fabric of my blouse and sleeves.

"Things pro-gressed" I stuttered, as my eyes locked with the hem of my skirt.

"How so?"

Flutters of embarrassment blemished my worn out skin. The words were so simplistic to others; touching and desire, but my voice felt robbed of saying such a thing in case the utterance of words brought around implications I had not yet been brave enough to handle.

"Do I presume sexually?" she queried as she crossed her leg over her bent knee.

"Just touching" I but merely whispered, the sounding aloud of such words plaguing my body with sin. "Over clothes" I added as an afterthought, relieving the somewhat tension of my wanted desires.

"And how did it feel?"

"Feel?" I trailed off, a perplexed imprint ironed on my brow.

The way I had moved above him and the feeling of being so wanted and desired by another had felt intoxicating. But at his sweet release, my confidence became undone. His actions became submerged with consequences and the freeness that drove me to his lap in the first place plummeted to fear. I had wanted him so much but my own inhibitions became too much, and the fear of what this meant for our relationship caused me to run. I had had no idea I could make someone act that way and I felt ashamed and embarrassed that I had no idea of how it felt to give in so easily as he had done.

I explained all this to Dr Shane and I watched her scrawl away every so often on the A6 notebook in her hand.

"Emma can I ask you something?"

"J-Crew."

"No" she laughed, as I tightened the cardigan around my waist "although you do have a fantastic sense of style".

"Thank you" I smiled, relaxing somewhat in the leather seat.

"You've mentioned enjoying what happened last night, and from our previous sessions you have indicated a somewhat," she pondered for a second before deliberating her next words, "enthusiasm for wanting sex".

"I-I guess". I mumbled.

"And also recalling what you said, you left last night because-"

"I was scared" I interjected, "I don't know what I want when it comes to- _that"_. My voice lowered, "and I didn't know what I was doing and then when that happened, I just, well, panicked."

I was worried when silence fell and I was unnerved by the way she chewed the pen between her teeth. I felt as though I could hear the thought mill churn inside her head and each silenced second felt like an eternity.

"Emma. Have you ever touched yourself?"

Choking on a breath of air as I directly looked into her eyes, I tried to formulate a reply, "Ex-cuse me?"

My reaction had told her as much, and I presumed she had already known the answer before she had asked. I felt defeated in my predictability.

"Do you want to hear what I think?" I didn't, but I kept silent, still a little taken back by her bluntness.

"I think the reason you panicked last night wasn't because you didn't want Will, or what happened between the two of you. I think you got scared by just how MUCH you wanted last night to happen."

Her words fell like razors to my ears, and I struggled to argue against them. I did want Will, and had wanted him just as much last night but my inexperience had justified against it. I wouldn't know what to do, or where to touch when it came to the _messy _stuff and the fear of letting everything I had known for 32 years go proved too much.

"But how do I get past that feeling, when it gets too much?" I pleaded with her for the answers I had given up trying to find. I hoped her solution wouldn't be popping pills but in my moment of sheer desperateness I would have tried anything.

"I think what you need Emma is to know yourself."

"I know who I am' I nodded, 'I know what I am and how I are but I want to know how to change, to be better." I smiled sadly, gripping my hands tightly together as I waited for her next words.

"I mean to _really_ know yourself, to explore some of those- _desires _you have."

"You're suggesting I-" my mouth popped open, comprehending her words, "I _masturbate_?"

"It could be a way to relieve some of the anxiety you have about intimacy yes, a way of discovering what you like and what you want to feel. So your somewhat prepared when you and Will become fully intimate."

I ran over her words, hoping that there was still a 'me and Will' left. I stood slowly up, brushing off the invisible tension that clambered all over my body, a thriving ivy of knotted controls and desires.

"Do you think it could work?" I asked her.

"Only you'll know the answer to that Emma."

* * *

><p>I'd love to hear your feedback, even if it is only just a few words letting me know what you think.<p>

And thanks to _Sierra-Jae_ for proof reading this and offering words of encouragement. And _logically chaotic_, your PM seems disabled so I couldn't thank you properly for your last review so hear it is; thank you!


	9. Discovery

"I'm glad you came".

Relief flooded my out-weighing guilt as I saw his profile walk towards the back table of the coffee shop where I was sat. He looked plagued by his own shadow, light stubble freckling his chin and sides as I saw him up close, sliding the chair back then forwards as he sat.

He smiled, but his eyes remained dulled. I saw the pain flicker in each movement he made, from ordering his coffee to the tearing of three sugars at the milk and sugar stand. I swallowed hard as I watched him, knowing that I had taken part of his shine away, muting his confidence in my selfish need.

"I'm sorry-"

"Emma, don't apologize". Will said, cutting me off. He stared continually into his coffee, swirling the wooden stick around the haze of white and brown. 'I think its best we don't talk about Friday'.

"But I need to explain Will, please?"

He nodded to the table.

"It wasn't you, I promise."

He visibly stiffened at what I had said, tightened by the loneliness and pain he had felt that evening. As he reached for a napkin behind him I grabbed his hand, lacing his fingers with mine. I wanted to take his pain away, the embarrassment he felt that no words could seem to eradicate.

"It felt amazing Will."

It hurt to see him so sad, so blameful of himself.

He finally looked up, his tear filled eyes paining me more than ever before. He swallowed hard as he tried to find his voice, unsure of anything and everything now.

"Please don't blame yourself Will." I held his hand tighter, bringing our hands to my lips. I wanted to take it all away; his blame, his sorrow but he felt so defeated and I hated myself for that.

"I was scared because I don't know how to do _that_ sort of stuff". I lowered my voice, shame spilling from my lips. I leaned closer, cautious of other customers within earshot, "I went to Dr Shane first thing the next morning. She's given me some suggestions to help work on my anxiety". I wasn't prepared to voice what those said suggestions were, having been too embarrassed to heed her advice last night.

"Emma" he hesitated taking a slug of coffee with his left hand. "I'm just really embarrassed about what happened, that has _never _happened before. Like ever." His confession was bold, burning scarlet on his neck and cheeks.

"Not with-?"

"Never". He reiterated, hanging his head low in shame as we sat in placid silence for a moment.

"I didn't mean to run off Will".

And it was the truth. So easy to say and so hard to do.

"I know" he whispered, tightening his grip on my hand. "I was just so embarrassed and so scared that I had gone too far, pushed you too far when I knew you weren't ready."

If he had looked up at that moment he would have seen the devastation on my face, how he blamed himself because of me. But he shut his eyes instead, exhaling all his worries in his darkened moment. Would I ever be able to heal him, to let him know everything I wanted was sat in front of me, no fear of him but fear of myself?

"I wanted you" I whispered, entrapping my thoughts in desired words. Would I be able to show him how much?

The smile littered his face wildly, scorching a mark that would tell me how much he knew I wanted him. And then it dropped, just like that, sinking deeply like the fallen moon. His confidence still lay in shatters, experience destroyed by innocence and I wanted to reach out and mend that.

"What have you got planned for the week then?" The shift in conversation didn't go unnoticed as he fumbled with his empty coffee cup, running his index finger around the rim.

"I'm going shopping with Claire tomorrow" I replied, saddened by his sudden switch in topic. "Would you like to do something tomorrow evening?"

"Sure" he nodded, rubbing his hand through his hair. He still looked so fragile and I wanted to kiss each line of pain off his face. He didn't blame me and that made it worse, knowing that his inner turmoil was directed at himself.

The next hour dwindled slowly by, both of us skating around the topic we hadn't closed. There was still so much to say, to explain but awkwardness and embarrassment enveloped us in its arms, pulling us away from the honestly we had come so familiar with.

We soon parted after that, my lips reaching to his with a burning need to touch him, kissing him with a depth I wanted to translate as love and want. And then he said the words that made me hate myself for running even more.

"That was beautiful".

...

_Your Hands –on Guide to Solo Sex_

I had spent thirty minutes just staring at the seven worded sentence, conflicted with what I feared and what I wanted. I imagined his face, how broken it had been despite his protests he understood and I wanted to find some confidence to stop that from ever happening again.

_That has never happened before_ and I took it and ran away with it.

I read through Cosmo's information more than once, making a written note of certain advice I felt may help. Once I had made my way through the entire article I fell against my pillow, shutting my eyes as my heartbeat sped rapidly across my chest. What would Will think if he knew?

After a few more minutes had passed I pulled myself off the bed, determination pulsating around my body. I poured a small glass of wine, balancing it on a coaster by the basin as I ran a bath. The room filled with the sweet scents of lavender as I took a sip of the crimson coloured liquid, removing article by article of clothing until I was left with nothing but the bare exposure of my body to myself.

My eyelids fluttered open as I stood before my reflection. Thirty-two years and I had never looked at myself fully nude before. I had never spent the time to look, to explore and trace the curve of my breast or the roundness of my thighs without clothing or a need to get clean before. Loneliness trailed my fingers as I gently felt each ridge to my ribcage and each line of my freckled skin. I breathed it all in, each touch to my naked skin offering more understanding to a body I had known, but never knew.

I sunk under the bubbles, feeling the relaxing aroma of heat and foam against my wet, naked flesh. My heart pounded lightly as I let my head loll back and my legs part that further few inches, the cool breeze hitting my exposed knees as they lifted out of the water. My hands began to touch, to wash away a coated innocence that no longer needed to remain and it felt pleasant as my fingers pressed softly to my stomach, tracing soft, curved lines up and down my abdomen.

I began to do more, trailing one finger under the slight curve of my breasts. Comfortingly, I felt more undone as my body hummed deliciously to each new touch I offered, hungered in its own arousal. My nipples reacted as my finger grazed across them, circling the hardening buds as I felt a tingling sensation begin to emerge below. I had to keep pushing past the waves of doubt and dirtiness that threatened to contaminate it all, focussing on how good my body felt instead.

Exposed to no one but myself, I let my hand wander further down. My fingers began to part my folds, running slowly up and down as my hips coaxed to the movement. I began to think of Will and how we had touched that day in his classroom, how I had ripped his shirt off in my fantasies of being Janet and how I had desired his taut tanned torso to hover over mine as his fingers became my undoing. These thoughts caused my finger to rub feverishly over my nub, letting my body pound as I felt a relieved satisfaction glow upon me. Wanting to feel more, I ran the figure of eight around my sensitive area, the arousal feeling unbearable as my walls throbbed together in a need to release. I thought about him again; me lay on his wooden desk, our naked chests pressed together as his lips devoured me with every taste and touch and diverting away from my note taking, I pushed a finger up into my centre, feeling my chest heave as I moved inside myself. My hips tilted to my touch and I wanted so badly for his finger to replace my own, to come undone under his skilful touch. But my breathing became shallow none the less as I continued to curl my finger up inside of me, still brushing my nub with the pad of my thumb every so often, feeling sensation that had been missed for so long.

Flooded relief met as I subdued against the bath's back, my chest heaving frantically as I tried to recall order to my writhing body. I eventually stepped out of the bath while the water drained, looking straight into the mirror, re-touching each place I felt empowered to before. Embarrassment didn't grip me like I thought it would, but I was now caught up in the relief of experience, knowledge helping than hindering my sexual beckoning. I had been fearful before, to know myself, worried that my inexperience would be too much but I felt lighter now and I allowed my lips to curl into a smile for the first real time that day.

...

As I finished my night time routine, shutting off the shower and drying my hair, I found the burning desire to place my teddy in the bottom draw of my wardrobe, locking up my child like ways to treasure but not to hold onto. I crawled under the duvet, lying as I had done for the past few nights, curled to the left hand side facing the small bedroom window and blinds as I thought of myself and Will. Part of me felt finally free, opened to the warmed sun light feeling of rejoice and self-love. And then there was the other part that felt shame splash against my newly founded experience for using him so derogatory.

But then I thought back to Friday nights confessions, how we had both felt with others about one another. How he admitted as we touched he dreamt of me and thought about giving me everything with just a touch. It made me blush, even now as the day faded on by and it was a beautiful feeling I had just begun to understand.

To understand everything with just a touch.

* * *

><p>Thank you to all of you that are still following and an even bigger thank you to those that review. I read every review and they really make my day! This was one of the harder chapters to write so far and I'm glad inspiration finally came back! Thanks especially to logicallychaotic for all your help on this chapter, you've been amazing! (and your knowledge in all things psychology related proved to be so needed!)<p> 


	10. Touching

The warm water lapped against my body as I found release in the sweetest sense that morning. It glided effortlessly over each curve to my frame, easing my body to relax as I thought of him. Would things alter if he knew what I was doing though; indulging in his perfectly sculpted torso as I became undone? Would he still see me as the same person, the same Emma just less naive and unsure? I wondered if he'd find it a turn on before embarrassment freckled my body for thinking such a thing.

The mall had already begun to fill as I entered the doors, searching for Claire in the thickening haze of crowds. My height made it frustrating to see the coffee stand we had planned to meet at and the level of comfort I felt began to decline, feeling at a loss in the crowded space.

"You couldn't spot me? I find that hard to believe!"

At Claire's voice I visibly relaxed, easing around to embrace her. She looked glowing, even as she approached a day closer to her due date, the floaty material exenterating her breasts but falling delicately over her rounded stomach which she cradled with such awe.

Our day breezed by, much like the conversation we shared. Stopping in a small baby boutique for Claire, I watched the scene unfold before me, smiling fondly at all the expectant parents and newly born babies that sleepily clung to their mothers shoulders. I felt my cheeks glow as I tenderly remembered Will's admittance by the river,

_'I want to have children with you'_

"You two not thinking about kids already are you?" Claire giggled in an almost child-like manner as she continually ran a hand over her own child. I watched how softly she rubbed her stomach, how much affection she showed the infant that lay inside her. My eyes filled with a longing I hadn't known was that strong.

"No" I half laughed, as my eyes wandered to an expecting couple, envious of the radiance they shared with each other. It tormented me to think about becoming a mother and if the pressure of childbirth and motherhood would be so daunting had I found a grip on my OCD sooner.

I swallowed hard, pressing my own hand against my stomach the way Claire did with hers so naturally. I wanted so badly to have a family with Will and it scared me to think I'd never be able to do right by our children, that I'd pass my issues onto them.

"Well right now you get to play cool, Auntie Em, think of it as training ok?"

Claire winked, fussing over the rack of dresses that burst seasons of coloured pastels.

I couldn't help the next question as it tumbled out of my lips, voicing the fear that came to visit sometimes at night.

"Do you think I'll be a good mother?"

Claire turned and smiled widely; gracing me with the warmth the sun possessed.

"I think you'd be a fantastic parent Boo. Both of you will. And you get all the fun running up to that if you get what I mean". She laughed loudly.

I smiled, welling up slightly at her kind sentiment, wondering what it would be like to be a mother, to have such responsibility of someone so innocent and young. It was something I wanted and feared at the same time.

"Oh and speaking of that type of 'fun', I know where were going next!"

...

He turned up around 7, dressed in a dark washed pair of jeans and a chequered shirt, carrying his guarded reservation about the evening with him as he stepped over the threshold. The silence became our torment as we sat down to eat, he keeping a sheltered distance between us.

He flinched when our hands brushed whilst reaching for the greens and his eyes tore rapidly away as my shortened hem line rode further up my thighs. He was too stunned by fear to provoke such a topic, bowing his head desperately in shame as he dared not to look at me.

By the time dinner had been cleared away the tension had increased and I found that the quieter he remained, the less inclined I felt to be. Frustration pent up from inside, knowing that he was distant because of me. Finally, when I couldn't take anymore, I let my voice carry across the room, stunning him with the sharp agitated tone it held.

"Why aren't you talking to me, about anything, about Friday?"

His body reacted first, as if preparing for combat, screwing his fists into balls as he sat deadly still. Remaining fixed to the floor, his eyes clouded over with the shame and anger that conversed in a devil like manner.

"I said yesterday I didn't want to talk about Friday but we did. We did for you! What else do you expect me to say?"

He gestured wildly, his eyebrows rising as the pent up emotion he carried around sunk to despair against his body. He had seemed too calm yesterday, like the fight had just slowly dwindled away from him. Fragility in its most broken form and I had caused it. Now however he seemed defensive of everything, his voice rising as the heat sharply hit his face.

"We didn't sort things out Will!"

"Can we please stop talking about it?" His voice cracked towards the end, indicating his frustration grew out of pain.

"No, I know you're angry at me Will and I'm so, so sorry for what I did but I'm working on it"

"You're just not getting it!" He snapped, almost viciously, dragging his fingers across his face. "I'm not angry at you Emma. What happened that night I- I can't get over it".

His tone lowered around the same time his hands tore away from his face. Tears had started to form as he sat, jolting his knees up and down to ease some of the pressure his body withheld.

"Why though?" I knelt to the ground, resting my chin delicately on his now stationary knee as my hand gently stroked his other. We had barely discussed what happened on Friday; our secrets kept from one another that wounded us when we came apart. He had said he was embarrassed but as I looked to the man I loved with adoration there was more to it that I hadn't realised. I had been too wrapped up in self-discovery to understand fully how he felt.

"Because I can't control myself when I'm around you. Every time I just-"

"Just?"

"I just want to touch you".

His honestly was laced with fear, a bluntness he deemed too damaging for my fragility.

"I want to touch you all the time and when I did," He paused "I couldn't stop." He shook his head in turmoil, feeling weak in front of the one that ran. Irony mocked us.

"I feel so ashamed" he whispered, bringing his hands to his eyes to avoid any tears from escaping. "I should have known when to stop, and that you needed me to stop because you weren't ready but I didn't".

I moved to hold his hand, not knowing if words would be enough to rectify how he felt.

"Then yesterday you said you were scared of all of this and I blame myself. I made you feel scared".

"No, no, no." I quickly stammered, shaking my head as I realised he had misunderstood what I had said yesterday.

"No?"

"I'm not scared of you", my eyes searched for his, revealing the utter devastation I felt at the thought I could fear him in any such way.

"I made you uncomfortable".

I sighed, shifting to sit as I had sat on Friday. His entire body became so rigid underneath me as he held his breath and I needed to find a way to reassure him, to ease his discomfort.

"This" I whispered, waving a finger between our conjoined bodies "didn't scare me. YOU didn't scare me Will. I scared myself because I wanted you and didn't know what I was doing."

"I pushed you too far though" His tone expressed the frustration he had with himself and I held his body closer, comforting him, reassuring that he had done nothing wrong.

"You didn't push me to do anything I didn't want, I promise Will", I placed a light kiss on his forehead as his eyes drifted shut. "I wanted you to touch me".

"Are you afraid of me touching you?"

"No". My lips descended on his, pushing him further back into the couch. My tongue tangled against his in the most delicious of ways, how passion and lust, and love came together in blissful harmony.

"I was fearful of wanting you too much". My tone was hoarse as I panted against the joining of soft skin between his neck and jaw. "Scared I didn't know what to do or what I liked, what you liked".

"Stop me if it's too much".

"Just touch me". My confession hung lustfully in the air as I slowly peeled back the top I was wearing, easing each button out of place until the top slumped to the floor in a heap. He devoured me with just his eyes, taking in each dusted freckle and mark; all the while writhing under me, desiring me, wanting me, empowering me.

"Beautiful" he panted, rubbing delightfully over the white lace I had bought only hours before. His skilful hands dipped under the wire, palming over my erect bud like no other man had done so before and I began to push my chest further into him, driven by the fire rippling through my body.

Heat and lust tore at his chest as I gladly pulled his shirt away, gliding my fingers across his tanned and taut torso. His chest panted heavily, and he looked as though he was struggling to breathe as we sat before one another, sharing the most intimate parts of ourselves.

My lips parted, tingling with the desire to taste him. His desire outweighed mine though as he pulled me to him closer, turning around so my back became slumped against the couch, his body hovering over me like a Greek God, worshiping every inch of skin he could find.

Hands roamed as his lips tasted, seducing my body to incoherency. Kisses peppered my chest before travelling lower, his warm tongue lapping seductively as it glided over my stomach, his hands easing the zipper to my skirt down. More skin, more taste, his lips humming only of delight as he discovered my body for the first true time and not just in my dreams.

Lay only in my undergarments he sat up, trailing over every contour and curve to my petite body with his eyes and fingers. Softness eased out his hunger as he saw me half-naked for the first time, admiring my innocence in the flickering candlelight, taking delight in all that I had shared.

His hands stopped for a moment as he slid the denim down his muscled thighs, tossing them to the mound of layers we had already shed.

His lips ceased being frantic, now gliding softly over my stomach, cherishing every part they came to touch and learn. His forehead pressed to my lower abdomen, his eyelids fluttering shut against my bare skin. Warm breath circulated as my body rose in adoration, feeling his lips kiss lightly over the bow to my panties, not in a rush to remove anything more, simply drinking in the sweet scents of our havened need.

"You can, you know-" My body arched almost instantly, envisioning how easily he'd glide the material off my lower half. When he made no such move to do so, I scrambled to a seating position, resting my lips on his bare shoulder, sucking softly on his collarbone.

"No, this is perfect". Running a hand through my golden red hair, he placed a flutter of loving kisses down my cheek and neck. "This is beautiful".

And it was. Our two bodies learned under the skilful art of each other, confidence blossoming with each new discovery.

Intimacy shared selflessly, retaining the youth of exploration.

It felt desirable to be touched with such love and want, to feel how his lips stretched over me, and how his hands ached to feel me. I felt I could share more, give in to what I knew felt good but he seemed in no hurry to let go of the innocence we had created tonight.

He understood my body now, just as I had done less than 24 hours ago, how to touch it in ways that felt divine and like so, I knew his most treasured secrets, knowing that a touch to his hip could cause him to gasp, pushing into me with a thirst for more.

Minutes twitched by before we found ourselves moving, having been content with the simplistic process of just a touch. His arms wrapped round my legs tightly, anchoring my body close to his as the couch became abandoned, the bed becoming our capture.

Our touches lasted all night, our most intimate of parts remaining clothed and as sleep fell upon us, we shared a bed for the first time.

Change illustrated the morning as our bodies blushed to one another, veiled in the drizzle of sunlight that showered the room. The thought of waking to him each morning became a potent thought, getting to kiss his lips as he whispered lovingly to my body.

We hadn't had much time to stay in the hazy state we were in though as the sharp buzz of my cell arose us stiffly upright.

He was panicked, and I could her Claire's voice shouting in the back, her tone laced with a pain that was unmistakable.

"Claire's gone into labour Em's" Andrew stuttered, "she's having the baby".

* * *

><p>Thanks for all the reviews, any thoughts on this one?<p> 


	11. Jealousy

As soon as we entered, apprehension grappled with my body.

Our palms pressed tightly together as we motioned down the wards, veils of passersby oblivious to our impending tension, concerned only with the sick and frail.

His nerves were more evident, and had I not been in the state I was, the touch of sweat to my body would have had me ruined. Yet in that moment it was oddly satisfying, and I took pleasure in the desperateness he needed for reassurance and comfort.

We both felt it, but voices never spoke.

Fear.

The door was to the right of the waiting room, a ghostly reminder of all that could have been had things been different. Darkness and light fought for succession and as the battle commenced, our shadows span to different directions, a more ironic than comforting sentiment as what was wanted and what was became separate.

He should have had a baby by now.

I could have had a baby by now.

But differences in life plagued the normality of need.

We entered the room slowly and I could feel his eyes penetrate the small bundle of joy as much as mine did.

Their faces writhed in elation, mocking the longing of ours as they cradled the beauty of nature delicately in their arms.

It was perfect, and selfishly, I was jealous.

"Emma!"

Andrew's voice sang of delight, pulling only momentarily away from his perfection to hug me. The tighter his arms grew, the more suffocation I felt at his happiness and I longed undeservingly for the roles to be reversed, to watch Will's arms fold over Claire as she stared pining for idealism that rested wonderfully in my arms.

"Come and see her!"

As I neared closer, sighing as I took a look at Will, I felt my hands itch with trepidation. It seemed so unfair as my body deceived me from what I so desperately wanted, growing uncomfortable at the sleeping infant before me, knowing just what mess she was capable of.

"Do you want to hold her Boo?" Her words were soft, distilling any qualms about waking her daughter up. Her eyes didn't once reach mine, even as she spoke, only resting permanently on the delicate newborn she held naturally.

I ached to, but fear eradicated the most simplistic of tasks and I felt shamed for refusing nature in its most precious form.

"Boo she won't bite! She doesn't have any teeth!" Andrew and Claire shared the joke, laughter that overwhelmed the room.

"Would you mind if-?"

His hesitance flourished his intent as Claire nodded pleasingly, easing the baby out of her arms and into the welcoming ones of Will's.

His expressions altered with each second, all the while adoring Isabella with his eyes. Softness graced his lips as he hummed sweetly, oblivious to the snap of the camera and the sheer thrill of excitement painted on Claire and Andrew's faces. He looked so perfect with her, warmly accepting the infant into his heart as he gave into instinct, dropping a kiss to my nieces head with the grace of love.

"She's beautiful" He breathed sharply, as if his breath had been held for longer than it should have. Then he looked at me, the curve of his lips twitching to a smile that had me stepping forward, hesitantly running a finger across her soft crown of hair.

"You can do it". His lips pressed tenderly to my forehead, an action he had done just minutes before, cherishing the beauty he illustrated in the world to be.

Regardless of the nerves that sickened my body, I shakily took her into my arms, feeling overwhelmed at the mere thought of what I was doing.

Fragility, perfection, longing, I felt everything from someone so small, completing my sense of self as she curled further into my touch.

"Hi Isabella" I whispered, smiling in awe at the sleeping newborn. Will's eyes ghost over us, exchanging dreams that I held already.

"You two best not be thinking of taking her!" Claire chuckled, shifting to the right so Andrew could perch on the bed. "You should have seen her yesterday Will, staring everyone down in the baby shop!"

'Claire!' I reprimanded, embarrassment flushing my cheeks as I stared guiltily at Will, then back down to the baby.

The truth was, if it ever dared to expose itself was that I was jealous of them all; every parent in that shop, every expectant mother or father.

And I was jealous of my own sister.

A home, a husband, a baby. She had it all, and in her normality, I hated that.

It was comforting as his hand reached for my cheek, lovingly stroking the skin along my jaw as the jealously that wrapped round my body showed small signs of easing. He felt everything too, connecting us in our desperation as his forehead gently pressed to mine.

"I know" he whispered, his hot breath gliding with understanding as I dared to meet his sorrowful eyes.

We wanted too much, too soon, daring to wish for normality we weren't quite ready to face.

So jealously was our only solace.

Flutters of brown met mine, eyes of only innocent curiosity gracing the walls, room and people. She didn't cry as I expected she would; only looked, defining her first few moments with an artful glance.

"She's so beautiful Claire". I could barely breathe, letting jealously slip idly past as her soft, tiny fingers curled round just one of mine.

"I know right! First timer as well!" she joked, missing the sinking waves that crashed violently over our faces. The hospital lighting let off a garish glow as I grappled with just how easy it was for her to share, to offer that 'throw away' comment as if it was nothing.

They conceived her first time and we had yet to consummate our own relationship.

"We Pillsbury girls have got good eggs!"

Uneasiness graced his laugh, unable to make a response or even a sound. It felt malicious, even though the intent was as innocent as the newborn I held longingly. Discomfort forced his hand to rub through his hair and I felt shame plague my body as he had yet to know anything about my body so freely intimately as my eggs.

Something, that before long, sought to suffocate us both.

...

"I was jealous of her today".

He sat up for just a moment, leaving the cool air brushing past my bare stomach from where his head had been.

"I know".

Hands had fought bodies as the door pushed itself open, our arrival back to my flat defined by a need to feel. Tops were removed as lips hungered each other, devoured in our desperateness. Our future became defined by theirs, leaving our emotions raw and our bodies open. Touches became hotter, nails almost raking at our chests and torsos just to feel that passion of togetherness, to reassure ourselves we weren't alone. Jeans became lost as touches grew more daring, seducing each other in our own selfish need.

Realisation dawned on him before me about what could happen if we didn't stop and he swiftly excused himself, finding comfort in the softness of the bed we had shared not 24 hours ago.

The silence had consumed us for an hour after that, only understanding the other through the rasp of a breath or a slight glitch to the throat. We wanted too much, again, our emotions overrun on a need to feel and to be felt and had we not have stopped; my virginity would have been lost to jealously.

Innocence ruined by a want of innocence.

And now our voices spoke, allowing jealously to be replaced by the honestly of being jealous. Touches weren't greedy, or selfish, only comforting and controlled, returning to the infancy of their belonging.

"I should have been so happy for her, for both of them but all I wanted to do was claw her eyes out."

He laughed, stifling it before it echoed round the bedroom. He didn't say anything, like I thought he might, only took my hand in his and threaded my fingers through his. He sighed, bringing our hands to his lips, revelling in honestly and sadness that craved to be known.

"I know you still think about it".

His head fell back to my stomach at what I had just said, and my skin lined with moisture that slid from his eyes and cheeks. Today marvelled itself on life, taxing those that had lost and never known the kick or the touch of their own creation. His had been a construction of ill timed lies and deception, creating a ghost of a baby that existed only in the mind and not in the body.

Senses became deprived as his lips craved over my stomach, trying to make comfort in a place of unknowing.

I let him, his grief enveloped in my need to feel required.

A gift of life that altered everything.

"She would have been born by now". He sighed, reliving the trauma of unravelled deceit and a breakdown of a marriage he had fought for too long to claim as his own.

His eyes fluttered shut yet again, only feeling the thud of my body as needed breath disrupted the sombreness of the room. As an ache to feel, for both me and him, my fingers crawled through his hair, releasing tiny goose bumps that showered his naked upper half.

"Today was hard".

When he nodded, my fingers courageously continued, travelling back through his hair and down the soft flesh of his neck and back. Tensed and uptight, I moved with need to release himself from his body, finding my core pressed deeply to his back as my fingers attempted to unknot his tightness. His vulnerability made itself known, painting mourning with each tear stained mark left forever printed on my sheets. I needed this too, closeness and connection carved into each movement placed on his uncovered back.

My head lowered as my lips trailed pressingly down his spine, feeling shiver and excitement flutter through his skin. To touch and to taste him made me feel wanted, even in such emotional hysteria, delicately defining us as two people in need of each other.

"Emma".

I didn't respond, just continued in my own desire as his slipped so out of place. He was needy, pleading for my lips to stop and kiss him properly, to hold him in such weakness as was.

"Emma, please."

My lips seized, falling deeply to the dip in his upper back as his motives became clear.

"Let me feel _you_".

His gesture was selfless as I moved to his front, finding my core pressed desperately to his. It was the way he kissed me so fiercely on the lips that caused pent up emotions to run away and I sensed his need was to achieve exactly that for both of us.

A welcomed distraction.

His touch became braver, ghosting over my covered core with no more than a finger. It was hot, even then, feeling just how close he was and how much I wanted him to touch me. Pressure increased as the wetness descended on the touch of his finger, revealing all in just a touch. Desire came to mind, letting my head loll forward to his shoulder as my panties were pushed aside, his finger only lightly stroking me but causing a most delightful sensation through my lower half. I could feel everything, and the way his lips parted, the soft flesh of his lips meeting my shoulder, I knew he felt it all too.

Closeness, connection, we craved it in the dark, needing it before the sunlight of jealously and loneliness shone before us.

His breathing decreased as his other hand travelled upwards, delicately drifting over the body I had ached for him to touch all day. His other hand didn't stop though, rubbing gently over my nub that elected my body to writhe deeper into his touch.

When his finger finally entered me, I let go, feeling so complete for the first time that day. His fingers, his body, everything caused me to come under his skilful touch, my sheer abandonment of everything I hadn't known igniting us closer together as we came joined and needed.

Pants were shared; our breathing the only sign life still existed in the room. Before long though, the itch of everything familiar haunted me and he knew his loss to cleanliness was my only refugee.

"I'll be right back" I whispered, moving to swiftly swing off the bed. I felt his tug to my arm and his lips descend mine before I left the room, his _I love you_ still resting at the forefront of my mind.

The shower brought me round again, letting my thoughts transcend as the steam enveloped the room. A need to feel was selfish but we had both craved it so much that taking it didn't feel wrong one bit. As his fingers had touched, I had become alive again, allowing myself to revel in our normality such as it was. It was a faded perfect, distant to the perfect we saw today and yet, we could claim it as ours.

But as the water trickled down on my naked frame, leaving all of today as a contemplation, a phone call took place in the other room that would alter everything.

* * *

><p>After this chapter, we'll be skipping time. I hope you're all ready for the next bit. I'm going away for a little while so if you don't see an update, that's why, I'm not abandoning this story as it is, I promise! For all of you that read and still enjoy this story, thank you, and I'd love to know what you think. And those that review, you truly make my day so a BIG thank you to all of you. Thoughts on this one?<p> 


	12. Devastation

**6 months later.**

Isolated.

Alone.

Those feelings battered against me, hurling their aggression until only numbness was left.

I watched her from the sides, her hand gliding unsurely over her rounded stomach. Her action was plagued with hesitance, motherhood flung upon her in the most uncertain of circumstances. Yet it was there, and unlike it had been previously, it fully existed.

The chill from the window travelled further as his eyes bore into only hers and her lips turned up in that sardonic way I had been so used to seeing as the goose bumps shattered against her sun cracked skin.

"Jesus Will can't you shut a window or something! I don't want this baby coming out of me like it's been aboard the Titanic."

I saw him clench his fist, looking with vast emptiness at his pregnant ex wife that sat before him; a disapproving look sat upon her face.

"No, the bleach is giving me a headache, we're keeping it open".

And there it was again, that snipe or throw away remark he heard only as words. But those words scarred deep, guilt racing feverishly through my body at the four a.m shift I had partaken in this morning. The bleach was just detergent to them, only I could smell the true failures of four hours of wanting cleanliness and coming our feeling dirtier than ever. Of scrubbing so hard until the skin blistered, of feeling so overwhelmingly out of control that my only norm was to scrub harder and faster until sweat laced my body.

And that's when I felt dirtier than before. And shamed.

"Fine. But if this baby turns out to be blue because it was exposed to such treacherous weather conditions, I'm suing."

"Oh give it a rest Terri; we don't have any money as it is! And suing because of the weather?" His face twisted in pure hatred, almost animalistic in a manner that pondered what happened to such a sweet guy that lovingly showed me what it was to make love four months ago. Now he dedicated himself to nothing, ghostly passing as a shell of his former, caring self.

Her phone call had been the start of a slow decline, tumbling down a wayward hill that showed no signs of breaking.

"Instead of trying to milk what little we have off us, why don't you track down the father of your unborn child, or were you too high on your meds to remember what the lucky bastard was called?"

A snipe at her meds meant a snipe at mine and the small bottle of 'normal' bore a deep hole in my medicine cabinet. Shame in every 60mg pill I popped.

"You know what Will, why bother inviting me round if you're going to be like that? What is it, some sickening perversion you have that you feel the need to taunt me and my sorry little life with the knowledge that you made the right choice, that you're finally happy with her?"

_Her_ came out laced with venom, spat from an enemy that had now since given up. She now just looked tired, exhausted by the weight of her reality that resided in her stomach.

Words never came, nothing that publicized any meaning to his short flares of temper, or late night runs. How his avoidance came more apparent as the days passed by, leaving me alone with the fresh scent of plaster and upholstery that was our 4 month old rented flat.

But silence crammed the emptiness.

And then the bedroom door slammed shut.

Her pain was unmistakable, the sorrow flickering in shades as she sat small on a couch that used to be hers. And through everything, I felt sorry for her. Everything she felt, I felt it too.

The loss of a man we had known and loved.

"I'd best be going". She whispered, turning her body to reach for her handbag but making her way to the door with haste.

"I'm sorry Terri" and she looked up, her eyes filled. I saw everything then, from the fear in her eyes to the loneliness she couldn't shake off.

And I wanted to reach out and hug her.

"Look after him". And then she left, the door instantly barricading me in until oxygen felt low and hearts could no longer retain their beat.

It hadn't felt like an hour. Everything felt so lost as I re-arranged the cupboard, striking order to the cereals and jams that I couldn't quite do to my own life. His footsteps were soft, sock covered feet creeping quietly along the wood panelled flooring, aching to escape.

"You shouldn't have spoken to her like that". Our eyes never made contact but I knew he was staring. His footsteps had since seized and time slipped by without a word. The wind continued to howl, brisk storms of cold air hitting my cheeks but I felt nothing, void of anything but numbness.

Will sighed, his anger never leaving. "Why did you invite her, you never liked each other".

I paused, taking a deep breath as my palms pressed harder to the counter.

"You've been so different these past two months; I thought it was because of her".

It was the truth, but hearing it out loud made it feel like some dirty confession.

"I thought it might help sort out your feelings".

I heard him choke, and I turned round, exhausted of feeling so helpless.

"Feelings, what feelings? She's my ex for a reason Emma; I don't care that she's got herself into this situation. I don't care that she fucked some nameless bastard and got herself pregnant ok?"

But he did, and his lie read easily as the wind hit his face.

"Do you wish that baby was yours?"

I had to ask, aching for so long to know why his touches no longer found me and his sweet words became laced with hate.

His eyes were wild, bleeding hidden guilt and hurt that imploded through him. His hand found the door, pulling it open and with one last longing look he whispered,

"I'm off for a run".

And bending down to retrieve his trainers, he kept his word.

The pain felt too strong, and long after he'd gone I couldn't quite cope. His lack of admittance told me everything I feared, that I after everything, it was still his first he wanted.

Any compassion I had felt for her had long since vanished.

Only envy now existed.

It was on the bell at one that Claire came round every Saturday, a bundled up Izzy balancing on her hip as she cooed joyfully.

"I swear she hasn't stopped all morning!" Claire rammed past, slipping the excited tot down on the sofa as she turned flustered back to me. "Half the night she was up!"

My face silently smiled, then dropped, her words cutting like razors.

"How's grumpy pants?"

"Claire" I warned, my chest catching, "don't talk about him like that, he's just going through a rough patch".

"Rough patch my ass Em's! This has been going on for two months! Look at you! He's making you ill!"

I stood there, denying the truth that poured from her lips. Instead of refreshing, her words felt ice cold and I longed for the warmth of his love.

"Boo, it's killing me to see you like this". Her words ached with a pain only she could offer. I moved to the sofa, wrapping my arms round her baby girl as if she were my lifeline. She snuggled closer, wrapping her small palm round the collar of my cardigan.

She sat heavily down next to me, running her hand over the crown of Izzy's hair, then through mine.

"You know, ever since you were born I've felt so protective over you" she smiled, and I started welling up. "You were so little, compared to John and me, so much younger. And then when mom left I vowed to look after you, whatever it took because I loved you so much".

I nodded and in the need for comfort I held out my hand which she gladly took.

"And I'll never stop looking out for you Boo, no matter what. If you need to come and stay with us for a while then you can. I know Izzy would love that."

In that moment, Will returned. Chest heaving, his skin slickened with sweat. He and Claire exchanged few words before he skulked off to the bathroom, the water washing away the darkening guilt that suffocated him.

Then Claire left, leaving the words as an offer and a baby in my arms.

"What did Claire want?"

His hair was still wet and the artificial light that fluttered in the open planned kitchen caught droplets of water sliding down his forehead and cheeks. An uneasy feeling came to me as he walked closer to the sofa, a palm pressed to the back of it. His tone was different, an almost reminder of who he had been and I would have rejoiced had he not been so different these past weeks. The softness of his jaw showed signs of relaxation, and normally his jaw was set stiff to attack. His transformation and constant shifts became a walking time bomb and I felt nerved, cowering behind the chuckling six month year old.

"She was dropping Izzy off".

He hardly acknowledged the baby, brushing his callous fingers along the soft flesh of my ear.

And because of the lack of intimacy we now had, I flinched.

"I heard Claire invite you to stay with them".

I was too exhausted to argue, too tired to question his eavesdropping.

"She's worried about us. About me."

He came round the sofa, panic thickening his stride. He knelt to the ground, swallowing hard as his lips twitched with bluntness, "Are you going to leave me?"

He was desperate, child-like in his need for reassurance and it made me heart ache so much more. I set Izzy down beside me, frantically thinking of an answer I didn't know. With a watchful eye over the baby I shakily took his hands.

"What have I done wrong Will?"

My body tensed, unable to look at him, too afraid of the truth.

Meanwhile his hand gripped tighter, his head shaking back and forth.

"I'm so sorry." And that was all he could manage before standing up and walking away.

Isabella lay sleeping in her cot and my body had dragged itself to the single spare bed in the guest room before collapsing to a restless slumber.

Dreams grappled with me, drifting back to the infancy of our relationship and it made my heart weep for what we had shared.

His touch had been inviting that night, radiating a softness that aroused me virginal skin to a sweet satisfaction. Trust came to the forefront, and whispers and love were exchanged as I gave him everything we both wanted, my sexual innocence finally shedding its weight.

Limbs tired and bodies heaved with an uplifted glory as he told me his most precious secrets. And his dream to make me his wife became a dream I too shared. On that night, four months ago, the bed we shared became ours. A new flat for a future that now seemed to slip so desperately out of reach.

The memories became a source of happiness, precious gems plucked from the mines of blackness and unbeknownst to me, he watched everything, the way my body twisted, frantic and fragile as sleep overcame. He cried, too ashamed of himself to ease everything that came so strongly between us.

He was hesitant, careful not to wake the room of silent desperateness. His hands felt uncontrollable as he knelt to the floor, somehow without arousing suspicion he was there. Sorrow penetrated his face, a grief that ripped savagely at him until all that was left were deepening scars and distraught findings.

"I'm so sorry Emma". He whispered to my sleeping body, his words easier to come by without a response. He mourned for us both, sombre in his revelation. "I just don't want to lose you".

His hand rose to my cheek, stroking a fallen strand of hair, curling it pleasantly round his finger. His action mimicked those of a newborn, a hand wrapped round a finger; a strength just beginning to unfold.

I didn't hear anything, or feel his fingers nurse my cheek, a smile he had lost showing signs of returning to his face. His hand rested lower, cradling my hip then pressing tenderly to my stomach. His desire was to touch, to try and communicate without words. Lost in translation for weeks we ghosted around each other, blame our only company during days, tears are only comfort at night.

Then more tears fell, from his eyes and the stirring infant just metres away.

His exit was fast, for fear of getting caught in a moment he had denied us for so long. It was cruel, but the truth was so much more painful that avoidance became a solemn norm.

"Izzy, Ssh sweetie, mommy's not here at the moment, it's just Auntie Em, ok baby? Ssh."

Her cries echoed fast and behind the wall he stood just listening, his hands clenched tight to his sides.

"Are you hungry Izzy?" And her eyes, already smouldering with brown widened. "Let's see what mommy packed for you shall we?"

The bag was missing and in between the chaos I realized it still sat on the sofa. With a pair of full hands and a crying baby I called out for him.

"Will, will you get-" His fingers hastily gave me the bag I had yet not asked for and within a flash he was gone, disappearing back into the bedroom. My eyes widened in surprise.

Feeding time was placid, Izzy too hungry to cause a fuss and I was grateful, my head feeling tired and worn out.

His keys were wrapped tightly in his fist as he entered the room, holding desperately onto them.

My eyebrows raised in question.

"I need to get out".

His eyes looked red, stained with an hour of frantic pacing and sobbed tears. His skin looked aged and if his former self saw him now, he'd recoil in shock.

"Where are you going?"

Izzy gobbled the pureed bananas, chirping happily as it smeared down her chin.

I just felt pained, my stomach becoming hollow. I wanted to feel something and my nails dug deep to my skin, scratching and breaking the skin he used to want.

"I just need some air, sometime to think".

Time to think. About what though?

The door was open again and this time no look was given. I listened to hear his footsteps decline the stairs, the engine on his car start and the screech of the tires as he sped off, a destination in mind I thought long and hard about.

I tried to imagine everything, but the answer for his change brought no conclusion. Was it me? Had I done something that made this sweet man so empty? The thought devastated me and my nails raked harder over my skin, red replacing white, scratches peppered with blood.

Izzy gurgled some more, now happily bouncing on a full stomach. A wet wipe and ten minutes later she was on my lap, playing with my necklace without a worry.

And I envied a baby.

I was torn with what to do, the cracking foundations of a rocky relationship still barely holding on. There was still so much to fight for though, despite the thrashings of trauma and loneliness we had took. There was still love, as distant as it seemed right now and with everything in perspective, Will was still worth fighting for.

I just wanted _my_ Will back.

Strapped fidgeting into her car seat, Izzy remained quiet for the journey and I was thankful her tears never came, my own heart fret with nerves as it was. Turning into the lot, the gravel crunching beneath the tires I pulled up next to his battered old blue clunker, looking longingly at it for just a moment.

Apprehension filled the air as we slipped down the crooked path, spying his crouched form by the river edge. Izzy's arms found their way to me and I desperately longed for Will to hold me safely.

This place held memories like no others, our first date shared with secrets and exchanges of love in the form of lips and touch.

Now it seemed desolate, and my breath caught tight in my chest with all that could be revealed in this very moment.

I sat down beside him, Izzy lying on her back between us, grabbing him lightly on the arm to which he flinched.

She didn't seem fazed however, just gently began rolling on her back when she could, my hand out to steady her.

"How did you know I'd be here?"

He stayed staring straight ahead, too scared to turn and face everything we had to discuss head on.

"You forget I know you at times".

Will half smiled, dying to tell the truth but it was so damn hard.

"Will you please just talk to me Will."

Desperation came and his head hung low in shame. It was an unsaid tension that hung high in the air, breakable if he allowed it to be. To him, his fear could cost him me but his silence pushed me further away, anxious to the point that his silence was my fault.

"I just don't know how to" he whispered, mourning in desperateness to unburden his troubles. I moved closer with caution, Izzy still remaining blissfully unaware between us.

"Please try Will, for me".

He shifted uncomfortably, wrenching his hands tight together. A sudden interest in his nails sparked within him and I began to fret, worrying how bad this thing could be.

"I'm just so sorry Emma".

"Please stop saying you're sorry Will. Just tell me, is it me?"

His head shook violently, his soft curls parting with haste. "No, no Emma I'm just so scared what will happen and that I could lose you".

"Will I can't help if you don't tell me, please just let me in".

And then he said it, the wind passing violently by that his words never made it to my ear.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?"

He sniffed, fumbling with his emotions like a tower of cards ready to fall at any given moment. He couldn't keep it together and I ached to cradle him so lovingly.

He spoke, and all went quiet.

"I can't have children".

And then Izzy giggled, innocence misguided in such blackness.

* * *

><p>Please don't hate me! I've had this idea floating around in my head ever since Season 1. Your reviews always make me smile so much, and with this chapter, I'm excitedterrified to hear your reaction but I'd love to hear it nonetheless. Thank you to EpicWemma for your input and great analysis and logicallychaotic, without your encouragement and constant help, this chapter would have probably never been written. Thank you so much! Hopefully the next update won't be too far away, the only way is up for these two characters and I hope you continue to follow them through it all.


	13. Communication

"_I can't have children"_

The river ran free, the leaves with their browns and reds dancing sporadically through the breath of wind. Squirrels hunted, fish swam, all while we sat still, unmoving in a state of restricted nature.

His confession brought neither satisfaction nor relief, as I well hoped it would. We sat in silence, neither of us knowing where to go or what to say as the enormity of his words began to check in and discomfort became our only refugee in a blitz of untimely devastation.

I squeezed his lower arm, rejoicing for a moment as his body accepted the first real intimate moment we had shared in 2 months. He let my fingers rest daintily on his arm, until his desire to run away from everything around us became too much. His arm pulled back as my smile dropped and he shivered, wrapping his arms tightly to himself as his cold exterior froze again.

"How long have you known?"

His face twisted in discomfort, his eyes acknowledging that this question was coming.

"7 weeks and 5 days".

His preciseness offered nothing as we slid back into an emptiness of engrossing despair.

I wanted to ask more but the way he chewed his lip indicated he was through with talking. His burden was still there, and instead of being angry for his secret, I cried internally for him, for us.

He looked solemn as his head spun round to mine, more shocked that no more questions fell than had I have kept on talking.

"I'm sorry" He squinted, his eyes wringing tightly together as his head fell to his drawn up knees. Sorry for what though I pondered, mourning for a loss we hadn't ever had. His infertility? His secret? He cried for them both and not knowing anything else, I held him.

He hesitated for just a moment as I pulled his head to my lap, running my fingers lightly up and down his cheek and jaw. He then relaxed, though his eyes streamed, running wildly like the river banks as Izzy's soft coos drifted quietly through the trees. Our roles had changed so quickly, months before my head was in his lap, ashamed of a 3 letter word that claimed my life.

"I'm so ashamed".

And there it was, an understanding routed in the core of our own very minefield.

"Is that why you didn't want to tell me?"

"Yep".

In a way, it made it easier, shame keeping his secret to his chest instead of deceit. It still hurt, but the wound became a scratch on the grand scale of things.

"Let's go home."

There was still so much to say and we hid behind everything here, everything we promised on our first date. It was a ruin of what we wanted too much and Izzy rolled happily back and forth, a mocking she didn't even understand.

"I don't know". He was calm again, raising his head up off my lap and into his own hands.

And I wondered how much more rejection I could withstand.

"Will, please, for us?" I was needy, desperate for him to love me how he used to, before his secret killed a part of him.

I loved him so much, and it was killing me too.

The young boy inside came out again, longing to be held and to be helped. He nodded, sliding himself slowly up off the ground as Izzy bounced happily in my arms.

His eyes burnt through us both.

No words were needed, our thoughts were the exactly the same.

"How did you find out?" I asked taking our seats on the sofa his ex wife had once owned. His car still remained on the beaten dirt track that led to the river while Izzy spent her evening in her own home.

"I don't know where to start"

He looked so young, his legs crossed on the sofa in an adolescent kind of way. He sipped his soda, clutching the can to his lips. Facing him, my legs bent halfway, I circled my arms to my knees as I tried to make out everything he showed; his eyes, his lips, all of it so damaged that the cracks had barely begun to heal.

"I was thinking about it when Izzy was born" he began, taking another gulp. He closed his eyes, scrunching his face tightly together as he winced at the memories, "when Claire said it only took them one try to conceive".

"You thought about Terri". I bit my lip, trying to understand how something so dark could affect such a sweet man. They never could conceive and the life he once thought grew was only through the mind.

"When she rang to tell me she was pregnant I tried to keep denying that something could be wrong but eventually I couldn't, and so, I went to get tested".

I searched for something to say, anything that would ease the pain that ran down his face and body.

"They said I had a low sperm count"

And then he broke down, shattered in the truth.

Time slipped past, until outside no longer became a distinguishable way to find the hour. Silence rippled through our apartment, an empty double sized bed, a table, uneaten at for so long and two ghosts sat lost from each other.

"It's why I can't touch you anymore" His tone was shy, muffled as his knees encroached closer to his lips.

"I'm sorry?" He looked ashamed as I questioned, pausing for a moment. He felt his heart pound faster, 2 months of honest-less conversations leaving him struggling for the truth he desired to shed.

"I don't feel like a real man anymore, that I don't deserve to touch you the way I so desperately want to. That I can't make love to you knowing I can never give you a baby".

So much darkness, how had we ended here? Our eyes made contact, sadness in grey and brown. We studied the other fully, truthfully and it was a moment of longing and forbiddance.

"I will always want you to touch me"

And at those words, our first time together became an unspoken thought that came to mind, to our minds.

And at that was the first time he had smiled, really smiled, in such a long time.

"_Never stop kissing me" he chuckled, pressing his lips tighter and wetter onto mine as his side curled against the bed that would become ours. _

_His breath was sweet, our bodies humming together in such delight. He was delicate yet so intoxicating that I wanted everything now. _

_In so much love and understanding his hands trailed my body, his lips in pursuit of the creamy contours of my hips and thighs. I was still so covered, my clothes aching to shed freely. His hands understood my movements, and without words my top and his became lost to the blackness of night._

"_Your body is beautiful"._

_His fingers softly stroked my stomach, teasing me in a spot he knew I loved to be touched. Confidence had grown between us, and shyness had slipped on by leaving us as two understanding lovers in need of each other._

"_Don't stop touching me"_

_He had pulled back, taking in my body, the valley of my breasts and firmness of my thighs. He looked heavenly, divinely hovering over me with such awe in his eyes. _

_I knew I was ready. So, so ready._

"_Don't ever stop touching me, I'll always want you to touch me". _

_I leaned up off the bed, my fingers curling round the nape of his neck. Smiles were shared as he came back down on me with urgency, lips touching, kissing, adoring each other with just our mouths. _

_It was beautiful, and in that, more still needed to be shared._

_It was an unspoken permission that his hand slid down my zipper, a splash of yellow pooling mid thigh as his hand ran over my covered core._

_More kisses that scattered over my stomach and breasts became a blessed routine as he took the time to love every bit of me. His breath felt warm and I became so enthralled in the man I would spend my life with._

"_Let me kiss you" I whispered, now being on top. His eyes fluttered open, grinning garishly under me. _

"_Stop pulling that smirk" I laughed, feeling the sweet vibrations of his own laughter beneath me. It was lovely and his youthfulness showed. _

"_Sorry, sorry, you know how I feel about you in this position!" His eyes were lustful, clouding over in a state of arousal. Through the darkness I still blushed, remembering his words one night as he lay how he was, as I sat, thighs sweetly parted over his, my lips teasing and adoring his body. 'You're beautiful Emma. I love how your confidence has grown and that you're not fearful to take the lead. It's gorgeous. You are gorgeous.' He had said, causing my hair and face to blend together as one unified colour. _

_We continued to kiss, softly, hungrily, sharing laughs and moments of passion. We needed each other, and our lips spoke for the words that lost themselves in love._

_Tenderly, my lips glided over his smooth skin, tasting and touching, exploring his neck in such affection. His eyes fluttered shut, and my lips smiled against his neck, kissing the spot I'd discovered made him shiver. _

_It was so plainly obvious that we were in love._

_My hand found his zipper, gliding the metallic bar slowly over his arousal. The jeans became an added addition to the victims lost in our desire and we were here now, clad only in our undergarments, exploring each other as we had so many times before._

_And I knew I was ready for more. _

_My hand trailed over his need, my warm palm pressing slightly over his tented boxers. He twitched as my fingers trailed up and down, his body elating in sweet gratification._

"_Will?" It came out intensely as his boxer found their way to the floor, his arousal on full show. I didn't blush like I used to._

"_Yeah?" He whispered, his eyes still drawn shut. I pressed my lips to his and felt his smile. _

"_Do you think we could try it tonight, making love that is?" _

_He sat up, his eyes open wide as though he had just been shocked. Had he? He pulled my body closer, my core pressed against his need and my arms wrapped affectionately round his neck, our foreheads pressed tenderly together._

"_You feel ready?" He whispered, clutching my chin with his finger. He kissed me then, ever so softly and I had no doubt that I wasn't._

_I loved him._

"_Yeah" I whispered honestly, though there was no one else around. _

_I was ready and although nerves threatened my calm and aroused exterior, I knew it's what I wanted. _

_And he wanted it as well._

_His fingers nimbly unhooked my bra, my nipples reacting to the cool breeze of the room and his skilful touch. I pressed deeper into him, my covered centre becoming wetter at each touch. It brought me back to the day at the park, where innocence has misguided me. Now I was ready for it all, and running away became an option not worth considering. We had needed time, and we granted it so, not rushing to give in to untimely desire._

_My head dipped to his lips, his plumped lips laced with hunger. It became hotter, and sexier as my body pressed on top of his, my breasts running softly against his chest. His hands soon found the curve of my bottom, his thumbs rubbing along the white laced material, his fingers cupping it firmly. It was something we had learnt about the other, how a touch could feel so good._

_Our bodies had shed the 'L' plates, knowing fully what it was the other one wanted. _

_It felt delicious._

_My hand trailed to his need, taking him into my grasp. He was hard, and his head feel back against the pillow. I ran my fist down his length a few times, feeling his hips thrust up to meet each touch. _

"_So hot Emma". He drawled out the last vowel of my name, too taken by it all to produce coherency. I smiled, noting the progress I had made over the months, and I made a mental note to share with Dr Stone at my next appointment. She was proud of me, my shy sexual demeanour slowly dwindling away as confidence blossomed._

_We exchanged roles and positions, his body god-like above me. His fingers curled round the edge of my panties, the final clothing shed. His lips hovered above the top of my core, desired but patient. Gently, his lips dipped to kiss me there causing my lower regions to tighten. _

_I felt alive, wild and free. My hair spread out around the pillow, a mane of red against white. In such a state, I felt beautiful as myself, and his lips told me he felt the same._

_Stroking me along my folds I felt my body elate, my skin becoming hotter as we exchanged glances. His eyes were a sea of beauty, captivated by my pools of brown, both desperately screaming for more. Passionately, his finger glided into me, then another, offering my body feverishly to his. My chest began to pound, overwhelmed and untamed and my heart felt it would jump high out of my body._

"_Keep touching me" I panted, his thumb running over my bundle of nerves that had me at such pleasure. It had my body racing, and my skin became glistened with a shade of pink, hot and flustered as I grew wetter, my insides contracting._

_When he stopped, I read his mind, sliding open the top draw of my bedside cabinet. They had been a secret, purchased as a task Dr Stone had set me and now, one was being used. I felt almost proud. He ripped the packet open, rolling the condom carefully on. I sat up watching, leaning against the pillows before he moved closer, his hand reaching to hold mine._

"_Make love to me Will" _

_I leaned down on the bed, the white sheets surrounding us, a setting for my virginal loss. My legs parted, my thighs slightly quivering in anticipation. I was nervous as he slowly edged forward, his arousal so close to my centre I could almost feel him. He kissed my knees, watching as he slid slowly into me, watching as the first man ever to be inside me._

_It took a moment, and my body writhed in discomfort, having never felt so full before. He stayed still, stroking my thigh, anything to ease the pain that was ripe inside of me. _

"_Just try and relax" he whispered, stroking my hair as I panted loudly, my chest contracting tightly. I nodded after the pain had somewhat subdued and he began to move ever so slowly, almost agonisingly slow for him. _

"_You feel beautiful around me Ems". My legs parted more, encouraging his body to press closer to me. The pain had all but stopped and I began to relax a little, meeting his thrust with my own, learning how to make love with the one person I had loved the longest. It had been so long, the dreams, the touches I had offered to myself becoming a reality. No longer a shy virgin, I had trusted it all to him and I felt elated I could share it with someone so worthy and so sweet._

"_I love you Will" I panted, seductively curling my hand round his neck, trailing my hot mouth over his parted lips. He lapped them all up, finding a faster rhythm as his thrusts became much stronger. _

"_How does it feel?" He whispered, his lips fumbling down my breasts and stomach. He wanted to know how it felt and with just feeling, I gave my answer._

"_Hot, so, so hot" _

"_God, you feel amazing around me Emma, so hot"._

_My hands came to his behind, pulling him deeper into me that caused us both to moan. It was elated desire that feverishly ran through our bodies and it felt so good to be with him in this moment, so right that he was my first._

_His next thrust brought my body back to discomfort, and my body read as much._

"_What's wrong Ems?" His concern was devoted as he slowed his pace down._

"_It feels like..." I panted, "Like I need to pee, really badly". _

_I knew what it was, but the sensation to pee was the only feeling I could process. My Cosmo days had taught me the feeling wasn't too dissimilar once he had reached my G-spot and that it would soon subside, bringing me to a state of pure release._

_He knew I knew, and with a kiss to my lips I pulled him closer again, encouraging him with every thrust. _

_My hands curled round his lower back, it feeling so good for him to be close. My lip caught between my teeth as my head feel back and I could feel his wet, seductive lips between my breasts. _

"_God Will, your gonna make me come." The pain no longer existed and I begin to feel parted from my body with such ecstasy._

"_Let me make you come". His thumb ran over the bundle of nerves that lay just above our united bodies, my insides twisting in such elation. I was close and I could barely make out his body, only feel how beautifully he moved inside of me and how delightful his artful fingers felt against me. _

_And then I came, riding the waves of pleasure I had never felt so strongly before. It was powerful, how I came around him and his lips parted just like mine, he too feeling elation in having come inside of me for the first and only time of my life. _

_Our bodies were breathless, his lips pressed to the core of my stomach. He remained inside of me, knowing how good it was to finally let go with each other, and not yet content to relieve us both of such feeling._

"_I want to make love to you every day of our lives"_

_His promise held so much more, and I dreamed of the first time we'd share ourselves as man and wife._

_I still felt at bliss, his head cradled close to my body. Our bodies glistened with sweat, the scent of fulfilled arousal filling our nostrils so sweetly. _

_Naked and exposed, my body told the story of a journey to adulthood, and the man that lay with me rejoiced the gift we had shared this evening. _

_So many times we had wanted this, and too many times our desire became our downfall. Broken marriages had become a stepping stone for the future, kisses shared with others a platform to each other and we were finally right, finally able to find each other on the same page and share ourselves fully. _

_It was truly beautiful._

"It was so beautiful Emma, I can remember thinking just how amazing you felt and looked. How much I loved you." He looked pained now and I felt such sorrow for all that became lost in this nightmare.

"I thought it was me". 2 months of agony, rejected touches and lonely nights circled viciously and blame became the only gesture I had known.

"God I'm so sorry Emma" His tone was sad, and he meant every word. I was hesitant but I touched him anyway, cupping his cheek in my hand. His eyes were wide with surprise as I drew his attention to my eyes.

"I just wished you had told me sooner Will, I'm not mad-"

"You want a baby and I can't give you one". Each time the words tumbled differently of his tongue- sometimes sad, sometimes angry, but they never changed the outcome of reality.

I hadn't given much thought to the future now his confession lay exposed. He meant so much to me, and as desperate as I was for my own child, he would always come first.

"There are other ways to have children Will"

He shook his head, and I became disheartened. "No, no, you deserve your own baby, it wouldn't be the same".

"He or she would be _our_ baby" I emphasised and he looked back up, tears pooled on his sweet, broken face.

The truth was I knew he would love the baby as if it were his own, as I would to. Our jobs prided on care and nurture, and those children in Glee had more than just a teacher in their presence. They had a father.

"I've hurt you so badly". I didn't deny it and it showed as my face turned to sorrow, my lips desperately trying not to tremble and cave to the emotion I felt.

"Just promise me that you won't ever give up on us Will, you can't make that call on us ok? We've come too far to throw this away; it's just going to take a little time to heal us so we can figure out what to do next".

He was nervous, but he nodded, still ashamed of himself. I hadn't any anger at him, as much as I thought I would. I just wanted my Will back.

"I still love you Will". My heart was fragile, hanging loosely on the line.

But he captured it.

"I love you so much".

There was still so much to talk about, so much to discuss, the past and present still so murky. But on the couch we sat in, promises of love were shared and a foundation was secured. And the rejection of intimacy I had felt became broken as his lips brushed softly against mine, our first real kiss in a long time.

"I love you Emma, I love you".

And with that, we began to find the same page again.

* * *

><p>I had always intended to show their first time and I hope this does it justice! Thanks always to those that review, as many writers would agree, they really do inspire you to write! Hope you enjoy! (If the italics are too irritating just pop a little note to me and I'll sort it out - sometimes they make my eyes go funny!)<p> 


	14. Trust

"And so you blame yourself?"

Three weeks had passed, allowing routines of silence to slip on by, deadly to the night we had cried to so often. In that time, we began to rebuild ourselves gently, still fragile as the soft buds of spring. Attentive to each other, around each other, we became to re-establish patterns lost in silent translation. But even through the progress, doubts remained, questions that would no doubt shatter what small 'normality' we had worked so hard to create.

And so I waited, waited for the absolute of words that never came. Dr Shane sat posed, straightened as a teacher to her class. I wanted the answers, 'why hadn't he told me sooner?' 'Why did I allow this to go on for so long?' 'Doesn't he love me?' I craved them so desperately and yet I didn't, caught in a limbo between wanting the knowledge that had driven such a wedge between us and wanting to remain oblivious to what I feared the most, that I wasn't worthy of his love.

"I let it go on for so long, why didn't I try harder to make him talk to me?" I was offering a question she couldn't answer and my shoulders slumped in defeat, my arms wrapping protectively round myself.

"Emma, this is a very difficult thing for both of you to face". She sat sternly, peering leeringly over the tops of her glasses. She was elegant in her pose, her womanly legs stacked with authority, one on top of the other. It was then I compared myself, her long sun kissed calves against the pale, nude ones of mine. I felt exposed, like she was judging me right then and there, and against everything I knew about her, I envied her.

"Do you ever question why someone can love you?" It hadn't meant to come out as it had, or perhaps, it hadn't meant to come out at all. I looked down, concerned with flooring, swallowing hard as years of self-loathing caught up as a tornado about to drop.

"Emma, do you believe Will didn't tell you because you think he doesn't love you?"

She had said it, finally, the fear I was too afraid to voice.

"I just-"my stammer cracked, my concerns and denials spilling without a word. She knew, I knew and it was as if I couldn't cope with it anymore, couldn't cope with the revelation that it was me who pushed him so far away.

"He tells me he loves me, but then why didn't he tell me, why did he not trust me enough?"

She swallowed and in her pause, I thought the worst. She had such a graceful way of thinking, her thinned lips pursed perfectly on her face, as though each thought would come to light the way it should. It made me nervous, and my hands twitched in anticipation.

"You and Will need to break through this lack of communication barrier you have. You're both struggling to find yourselves in this relationship because you're not talking to each other".

"But he loves me right?" My eyes were wide with fright, staring into hers so pleadingly. She gulped, reading through the file that sat on her lap, the file that in just three short pages, told her of my sorry, tragic life.

All there in black and white, the constructs of a life I hadn't ever truly lived.

"I want to address this next week Emma, because I think there's something a lot deeper here than just Will. I know we've talked about your mother before, but I feel you need this time to really talk to Will about your feelings ok?'

I nodded, wondering how she felt about me, and how Will would feel tonight.

The car was warm, despite the cool weather that had breathed heavily against my tired limbs. I placed my hands next to the heater, warming each and every long finger until I was ready to set off, to face the troubles we had brushed over so thinly. The road became a battle of journeys itself, the long stretch of highway to home feeling so tiring that I almost pulled over. My fingers gripped tightly to the wheel, marks of nerves forever printed on the leather coating. I was that four year old girl again, shy and so lost, crying out to be loved and meeting only with the sound of burning rubber on the driveway, a mother without direction hurdling down the road.

So desperate in her escape she never even kissed me goodbye.

The phone buzzed and at the caller I.D, I allowed myself to relax.

"Hey boo, how did it go?"

The plastic felt comforting pressed to my ear tightly, Claire's voice soft as rain pleasant to my skin.

"Will loves me right?"

The voice of a sister replied, a sister who became so much more to the young girl living in self blame for their mother's abandonment.

"He does, Emma, so much. I know this is hard for you both but you love him right?"

I did, so, so much that it hurt to even breathe. Even through this mess, I couldn't ever stop, as frustrating as it was, I couldn't. Even through the torturous long months of other marriages there was always that connection, routed so deeply that even allowing myself to feel love was terrifying in itself.

"I do" the image of a white dress and vows of forever not far from my mind.

"Just talk to him then, you shouldn't be afraid boo!" I caught the expression in her tone, encouraging me. I sobbed loudly in exhaustion, tired of being afraid of myself and who I was.

"I love you Claire" And I allowed myself to say that without fear.

"Right back at ya sis! Listen right; you and I, next Wednesday, fancy a night out? I'm talking a couple of bars, nothing too fancy just a bit of you and me time yeah?"

It was hard not to say yes and she made the offer so tempting that in the end, I couldn't resist.

"Sure, why not".

"That's my girl, anyway I'd best shoot, Izzy's just waking up from her nap, love you bye!"

Her abrupt ending reminded me she had a life, one that refused the past's interference. In a lot of ways I envied that, the vital ways she energised her life for the sake of family, a word that had been so scarce for so long in our lives. It made me want it too; picturing our daughter in his arms, tired from their day of slaying dragons, his kisses long lasting on my skin years after exchanges of vows in front of loved ones. If I imagined it without fear, I allowed us to be happy, and for that moment I was.

Until I saw her come out of our house.

My hands held the steering wheel, jealous and tight; spying on the brunette with nothing but intent. My gaze never wavered, remaining stiff and unnerved from behind the safety of the car window. My breathing slowed, wondering why and how long she had been in there, her attractiveness not going unnoticed under my watchful glare. She was curved, her breasts clinging seductively to the cotton blouse she wore and my presumptions about who she was would turn out to be correct.

I clambered out, my limbs once again feeling weak in front of another's. She was everything I wasn't, her stride confident, her head held high, so womanly that even the swing of her hips had me absorbing her with envy.

I stood in front of the door that was ours, fumbling frantically in my bag for the key that would return me to him. I could hear her stilettos, a stride with a purpose behind me and I turned around before she had a chance to acknowledge her presence.

"Here, I saw you drop them on your way over here". Her smile came out half heartedly, my eyes transfixed on the croaked way her thin lips formed expression, the same lips that had touched his and felt his. My stomach lurched at the thought, paining me that this very woman had been his retreat when I hadn't been enough. She swung her dark brown hair over her shoulder, shiny and smouldering against her body. My face stiffened wondering if he had felt it, ran his fingers through it as he had so often mine. I ached to just feel it, to understand him better through a stranger I didn't know and he had kissed.

"You must be Emma, I'm Shelby". I swallowed, meeting her hand with a pleasant shake. She was intoxicating, her presence overwhelming. I wondered how it was to look so in control and I eyed the woman suspiciously that resembled so much of the daughter she gave away.

I remembered all those late afternoon meetings, the petite young brunette with so many questions on her dangerous tongue, asking me for the answers I couldn't ever give to her. It never left me and I had absorbed all of her pain she felt, her young heart crying desperately into my open arms as to why her mother never loved her, why she hadn't ever wanted her.

I had cried for her, and the little girl that was still a part of me.

Could I really hate this mother?

"We live together". I tried to sound strong, but I felt passive in her talented hands.

"He said." And there was that smile again, painted in such an eerie way I didn't know whether to return it or fear it.

It was awkward, yet I craved more from this woman I didn't know. The way she looked, the way she stood, she knew a lot and wondered just how much she knew.

"I'd best get back to pick up Beth, I'm sorry, nice to meet you".

Her stilettos marked in the gravel, and I watched her with full intent, knowing her sorry was for more than just her get away.

She knew.

And that's when I hated her.

He was sat on the couch, the steam from the kettle rising slowly, two used mugs sat on the side. I swallowed, meeting his wayward smile that had so often touched me. But now all it did was make me ache, and I glanced at the mugs again, another woman having been where I should have been. I looked at him, sad and mournful as a tear slipped slowly down my cheek, revealing all the pain those months of isolation had caused.

"You told her. You told a woman you made out with about something you couldn't tell me for two months".

His eyes were wide, consumed with relief and sadness. He was surprised I knew and he took several steps forward, not stopping until he reached where I stood. Attentively, he placed his hands in mine and despite my anger; I let him, because even through my tears I wanted him, always.

"Oh Emma." He looked exhausted, his hands running softly over mine. Words were our barrier, refusing us the physicality and emotional needs of us both. If only they would come, let us find our own way through this.

"Just why, why didn't you tell me, and why could you tell her as if it was nothing." I had started to cry harder and his wrist came to my cheek, wiping a tear that became shared. He was craving to hold me, to love me with his arms and lips but I couldn't agree, and my face twisted in grief.

"She can't have children biologically either".

It was a confession I hadn't expected, but it didn't bring any source of comfort, just a chill down my spine.

"I stopped being able to have children the moment you found out Will. Because I love you so much that it doesn't matter if we can't have our own baby biologically. But I can't do this if you're willing to keep such huge, huge things from me, I just can't, it hurts too much".

And as his eyes met mine, relief crashed over me, that and his lips.

It was desperate, my head feeling heavy in his hands. It wasn't passionate but it wasn't unwelcomed either. For that moment we were consumed just by desire, like naive young teenagers, hot and needy for each other's lust.

"I was just so scared that you'd leave me Emma".

His breath felt cold, his lips curling with a grief. He struggled to acknowledge what this had done to us, his desperateness riddled in each and every moment. He knew though that pain had been spread, and his lips on my shoulder told of his apology and sadness.

"Why would you think that though, did you think I couldn't handle it? Did you really think I'd leave you?"

It all came out now, flooding the room that had held our secrets for so long.

He moved to sit down, his long jean clad thighs spreading out widely against the couch. His hand moved to bring me closer, and I sighed, because despite all that had happened, that still happened, all I wanted was him to love me.

My legs fell onto him weakly, as my face turned to his. We were sat so intimately to an outsider but to us there was so much anguish that remained.

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me Emma, so beautiful in everything you do and it kills me I can't give you a baby boy or girl that will be just as beautiful".

He spoke from the heart, revealing his sorrow that had destroyed him so very much. It had destroyed me too, trapping us in a future we hadn't had yet.

"I want a baby with you Will, one day, with only you".

And the image of him holding his daughter for the first time would keep me awake for nights to come.

"Shelby dropped those off".

And he pointed to the pamphlets on adoption that plagued our table, his arms cradling me so lovingly to his chest.

"We can think about it another day Will, I just want you back for now".

"I'll always want you Emma".

And nothing more was spoken, but in the silence, unlike so often before, understanding was acknowledged. We didn't do much that evening, but for us it was perfect. Dinner was cooked and eaten together, routines that had felt trivial before symbolising a return to Emma and Will, Will and Emma and only us. By 10 o'clock we had turned into bed, the covers peeled back as we slipped in beside each other, his arm wrapping around my waist. He kissed me then and I felt a sense of return, that things would be better.

The pamphlets lay on the table still, as they would for mornings to come. They never moved, always a reminder of what could be as long as we stayed as 'us'.

And I dreamed of our little girl again, for she would always be _ours_, biologically or not.

* * *

><p>This has taken forever to write, damn writers block! But i hope you enjoy nonetheless! I've been so excited to start the next few chapters where we'll have some happier times among a few other things ;) but I couldn't move on until this was written!<p>

For any of you that are interested (probably none!), I've just started over on 'Fiction Press' publishing my own work without the safety of Glee or Will and Emma! My work will be uploaded within the next two days so if anyone is interested at all in reading them please PM me or leave a note in your review and I'll attach the link of the pages to my profile page on here :)

Back to this chapter, thank you to all of you that review, and for those that leave such wonderful comments. I wouldn't write if it wasn't for you guys, you truly install my passion in writing so thank you!


	15. Promises

By the time Wednesday night had surfaced, just as the sun descended to sleep, we found ourselves laughing. He was the epitome of joy, and we all relished in his light, so glad to see his scars slowly fading to love.

Claire toyed with her glass of crimson coloured liquid, eyeing it with a long awaited suspicion. A pregnancy and infancy stages of life left no time for indulgence, and so she waited some more, waiting to cherish the first drop as if it were her last, so the taste forever lingered on her tight, pink lips.

I stood next to Will, overseeing the interaction between sister and her husband from the breakfast bar, watching how Andrew's eyes lovingly traced every last bit of her, his attention solely diverted to the mother of his child and nothing else. Will licked his lips, his soft, sweet tongue aching for release.

"You looked heavenly tonight".

His voice remained husky, and his breath became my undoing. His words came into me, his body came into me. His long, capable fingers indulged in touches we had only just forgotten, each finger and thumb tuned into my body as if they never left. He traced over my hipbone, and I gave into each and every moment we shared, so glad that those dangerous words we finally had shed one week ago left in its wake a Will and Emma we both recognised as 'us'.

I turned to face him directly, no longer afraid of the distance we once were at. He smiled, his features illuminated by the soft glow of kitchen light. He devoured me with just his eyes, but it still wasn't enough, my body desperately wanting his hands and lips all over me, worshiping my body that would soon become flushed with release.

"Will you be up when I get in?"

It had become a new routine, born from the ashes of our past forbiddances. We'd share the evenings with each other, revealing all that had been learnt throughout the day and in the past we had missed. He spoke about the seventy-two hour dog he had as a young boy, his sorrow at the dog's untimely disappearance. He had been named Smudge after the dark patch of colour on his left eye and I had laughed, sharing the story of my pet fish, also named Smudge because of the dark ring around his right eye.

Without words right then and there, we knew what the dog that would entertain our daughter in years to come would be called.

By 11 each night, we'd fall into bed, like we would as teenagers when our paths hadn't crossed. The double bed felt just as full as it had that first night we had shared it as our own, the space that had grown in between us both physically and emotionally now closed with limbs touching and limbs aching to be touched some more.

Seductively he returned my question, his eyes shining brighter than they had in months, "of course".

"Boo are you ready to hit the town?" Her excitement bounded over to us as she placed the empty glass on the side. Will looked mournful, discovering his hands as leavers if he wanted to keep me as only his.

"I'll be up". He moved closer until our lips could do nothing but kiss. Eyes bore only to each others, exchanging thoughts and regrets of lost intimacy we had deprived our bodies from.

I wanted him to ravish me.

Then make love to me.

His kiss was tender, his mouth pressed hotly to my begging lips. We succumbed, like all those kisses shared in the hallway of untaught education, kisses that before were shared with a passion in lust, not quite with the understanding of what it was to love.

"Per-lease, get a room!" Claire snorted, abruptly ending the five seconds that had scorched my lips for the night.

"Come on then Claire!"

We left the apartment that night, excitement fuelled in our lungs.

Excitement that would stay for hours after Claire went home.

We reached the bar, the lino and the wooden round tables just as I'd remembered from that night he had come undone in the park.

Claire called over the bartender, her pose confident and straight. She had the elegance of a successful young woman, and she was, truly. I always let this knowledge slip, but in many ways, I was just as successful but this admittance became trapped beneath my tongue.

With the drinks now in our hands, attention turned each other. Her hand slipped lightly into mine when the conversation turned to me, an unspoken support that she'd always be there for me.

"We're ok". I responded, smiling honestly at her concerns. "At one point, maybe even a couple of times I thought that it wouldn't work but, we love each other and this past week we've both made the effort to change."

Honesty gave itself to me.

"I'm so glad boo, and I know whatever decision you make about having a child will be the right one for you both." She tightened her hand around mine as I smiled widely at her.

"We will have a baby". Her face lit up too, her dimples showing against her pale, cool skin.

"Cheers then!" She announced, raising her glass with pride in the air, toasting to new starts.

"Emma?" He chuckled, squinting slightly in the low lighting like he so often did when he was without his glasses.

"Hi" I blushed, my walk staggered by alcohol as I entered our bedroom, my bag lost somewhere to the sofa.

He laughed lowly, and I could hear the sweet vibrations of his laugh as if he were inside of me, "You look a little drunk".

"You look a little sexy", his bare torso so inviting to explore. My eyes rolling back in lust.

His expression changed, his eyes dimming darkly as I walked over to him, my hands to my chest. I felt dangerous, intoxicated by so much more than a night of drinking. I wanted his hands to roam me, to re-discover the soft tremble of each and every curve he had once showered with his lips. I allowed my warm palm to press against his chest, it heaving with nervous apprehension.

"You want to touch me too?"

I was open, inviting his hands to where they wished to love. I couldn't read him, only watch as his hands made it under the top I wore. His hands were curious, fumbling nervously that they made my heart pound loudly against my ribcage.

"I've wanted you to touch me for so long Will, why has it been so long?"

He began to open his mouth before coming overwhelmed with emotion, his lips sinking deep between his teeth.

"I've made love to you so many times in my dreams."

I moved to hold his hand at his words, my body anchored so close to his that I could smell him. We craved each other like animals, so dark in the night we almost forgot ourselves. There was something so wild about it though, something so incredibly thrilling that possessed our bodies to touch and taste. It was desire, something we hadn't given into for so long and we folded to each other like the wind, placing our trust in each other, and ourselves.

"I've missed you so much" His tongue glided sweetly down my chest, his hands ahead pulling back the buttons that tumbled to the floor, burning around our feet.

Before long our bodies touched, his smouldering bare chest against my bra, his tented boxers against the cool dampness of my panties. It was in this moment we adored each other fully, watching the soft blush of colour paint itself to our bodies as the golden hue of tomorrow shone upon us, basking us in all its glory.

"You look divine", he whispered slowly, the golden sun illuminating my body to his seductive eye.

"Touch me Will".

I pleaded for his hands and lips. When his hand wrapped itself in mine I was confused, wondering what he was thinking.

With his lips soft, he grazed them over my knuckle, then my arm, meeting the juncture between my shoulder and neck. He devoured it with his lips, sucking with intent as he marked me twice, only once with his teeth, the other with a promise he would always keep close.

My hair brushed against his cheek and his hand softly pushed it back into place, each movement gentle and remembered. He wanted this to be slow, and his eyes lead his lips, each moment carefully placed to my accepting skin.

"You're so soft Emma".

He was dramatic and compassionate, in awe of me completely that I was almost spoiled in such love.

"So incredibly beautiful".

We ached to make love but it was too soon, our warm, slick bodies deceiving themselves in what we knew would be too much.

My lips caressed his own, pushing my body further into his. He groaned deeply and I could feel my body shiver in its wake. His hands wrapped round my neck, drawing my lips hotter and wetter on to his, my tongue slipping seductively into his eager mouth.

It was heated, and confessions spilt hot off my drunken tongue.

"When I'm your wife will you promise to always touch me, I hate not having you close to me".

His confessions spilt from sober thoughts.

"I'll promise never to stop touching you again."

They felt so right to be spoken, despite the dangers that had not longed passed and the hazy memories that would suffice in the morning. I felt safe and loved in my vision for a future where he'd love me as a man in love with his wife would do.

He had already, just not officially, yet.

And he didn't once mention the ring he brought months ago that was buried deep in his locked desk at school.

A secret that would one day come to light on such a profound occasion.

"I'm so completely in love with you Emma _Schuester_"

His voice didn't tremble, never wavered in a fear that could have pursued. He breathed slowly, my eyes drifting shut as he replayed Emma _Schuester_ on his lips a few more times, simply taking in the delight of how it sounded on his tempting tongue. I would become _Schuester_ one day, Pillsbury becoming buried to the past, and with it, all the darkness that came with such a name.

"Emma _Schuester_, I like it a lot". He begged my eyes to open, fixated on my reaction. I felt hazy, discovering his features like the very first time we had kissed, again like before, they drew me in so wonderfully.

"I like the sound of being your wife".

His lips broke out into a smile, infectious that I could only but return it.

"Just promise me you'll wait for me to ask you ok?"

I nodded, delivering my acknowledgment with another kiss.

"Cause I'll make you my wife one day Emma _Schuester_," He smiled again, "I promise".

* * *

><p>I felt motivated today so here's another update for you all. Enjoy :) (Thanks to all that review!)<p> 


	16. Reunions

The first thing I felt that morning was his soft, tentative hands travelling up along my side, brushing at my shoulder and neck. My head felt heavy, the sun light drinking in my naked flesh that refused to hide behind sheets and secrets anymore.

"Good morning" His warm breath grazed my shoulder before I could fully awake, unutterable promises lingering on my ashen skin, which came veiled to the morning that rose before us. My eyes slipped shut once again, succumbing to the placid darkness as his hand came to explore my body in awe, intimately dipping his fingers below the waistline of the only article of clothing I had on.

"Will"

"I've missed you".

There it was again, that one, needed reminder that had before, acceptingly lain itself down beneath our baggage.

He slid the fabric over my long, warm thighs, pressing more kisses eagerly to the curve visible in my back. His arm became accommodated for between my thighs, his finger relearning my most intimate of areas. I arched back into his chest, moaning his name in a soft, husky release, letting my body move freely against his as he hit a spot that left me quivering in suspended pleasure.

My eyes fluttered open, as his long, willing fingers stroked me in the most delicious of ways, allowing my wetness to rest on his fingertips. They trailed lightly over my nub as my teeth clamped hard on my lips, suppressing my outcries of satisfaction.

Hot, seductive relief.

"Let me hear it, its sexy."

Our chests now facing, we slipped off the duvet, letting it pool at the edge of the bed. Our eyes became locked, remembering all those times we had looked like this so early on, hair unkempt and chests heaving, wild with ecstasy. It wouldn't be long before his body or mine would glide over the other, allowing the complete abandonment of shyness as we joined again and again, his hot, slick need moving deliciously inside of me. That had been two months ago, the last time our eyes and bodies filled with such intensity, and it became blessed, like a prayer, that our eyes shared in this right now, together.

"You were so hot last night" His face revelled in pleasure as my nipples grazed purposely slow against his golden, taut chest, teasing him wickedly. My thighs lightly straddled him, our mouths forcing the others open. His tongue pressed hard against my mouth, allowing it to finally meet with mine, seductively caressing my behind at the same time with his talented fingers.

Yes, this is what we'd missed.

He slowed our lips ministrations down, placing gentle and soft kisses against my devoured lips. He raked his hands through my hair calmly, showing devotion to my entire body. His eyes sparkled, smiling through the hues of grey and blue. He looked like a man in complete and utter love.

He looked like the Will I first fell in love with.

I ached for him so deeply as he pressed me firmly to the mattress, his manly thighs pressed heavily to the sides of mine. There were so many things I loved about him, and this past week had only affirmed the happiness that weighed out the shadows of our closets. They had been dusted out, allowed to linger at a distance to watch joy finally seek itself to us again, letting it know that we weren't afraid to hide anymore, not afraid to love and be loved.

His palms moved hotly over my compliant body, his alluring hands dipping along my breasts and hips, his bewitching tongue gliding provocatively against my lips.

"So, so hot".

I moved to take his member in my hand, equally frustrated as his boxers strained.

"No, this is about you; I just want to touch you".

Thinking that was perhaps the most selfless and erotic thing I had ever heard, I swallowed, showing a hint of vulnerability at his lustful mind. In comparison I paled, my creamy flesh against his golden, my petite frame lay subdued to his muscular body. He never allowed my fears to voice though, his inquisitive body always eager to show its devotion, honestly showing just how attracted he was to me.

My hand curled round his neck, praising his lips with a shower of devoted fulfilment. I rubbed my core lightly against his bulge causing his hips to buckle hard against mine, his moans of frustration blissful to my accepting ears.

"I was hot last night?" Memories gestured at touches and kisses, but words were hazily drawn away.

"You don't remember?" His voice appeared lower, inheriting a husky tone; seductive off his dangerous tongue.

"I said something?" I was curious, yet mystery enveloped me willingly, teasing like his tongue on my breast, his wet, pleasing mouth sucking as it hardened beneath his touch.

"So hot, so sexy" His mouth travelled lower, his lips replacing his fingers. He felt warm between my legs, my thighs parted by his strong, capable hands as he dipped between my folds, parting them eagerly with his nose and mouth. My hands curled round the headboard, seduced to nothing of coherency. My eyes fell keenly shut, allowing his touch to rediscover me, appreciating my firm, willing body that had been desperate for so long.

"What did I say last night? Oh God".

My body thrust joyously to his mouth, my womanly calves draping round his neck as his tongue caressed the bundle of nerves that lay at the tip of his tongue. He felt so right there, and I feared for how long it would be until he touched me like this again.

My fears would be eagerly disbanded.

"You really don't remember?"

Another lick, his strong, inviting tongue pressed deep against my folds. He made me feel so loved, and so hot at the same time that it was almost unbearable. His hand came to fit in mine, as his mouth continued the work that had me on the edge of release. He stroked my hand with his thumb, gently reminding us both of the care we had once prided on, and how that care was now back.

"Tell me" I panted, my heart beating rapidly, unnerved in feeling so much love.

"Later" He mumbled, "you feel so good against me right now"

I became too warm; my body blushing in overwhelming hotness. Faithfully, my body adored him, preparing to give in to such release as his tongue worked against me, magically caressing me in an awe he reserved only for me.

I felt on the edge, my lips pursed as ready as my legs, "your gonna make me come Will." My body heaved heavily against his mouth, my hips thrusting without warning against him, rubbing deliciously against his hot, slick tongue.

My fingers held his curls, feeling pleasure at reaching such a state with the man I had rekindled everything with. My body came against him, the sun dancing delightfully around us as I did. Sun light peppered our naked skin, allowing us to be seen only by each other, intimacy replacing rejection, rejection tarnished to ghosts that held the past misgivings.

We had brunch at 12, sitting appealingly ahead of each other as pancakes were halved, and jam was teased against each other's lips. Showers were taken separately at first, then together, hands too impatient to wait to explore over clothes.

"What did I say last night?"

At around 8 in the evening we had curled against each other on the rug, the fireplace roaring with ambers and gold. His calmness became replaced with amusement as he remembered the words that slipped off my drunken lips last night; forbidden, confessions that he loved.

"Tell me" I whined, slightly pressing my finger to his naked side. His top had been lost somewhere between the bedroom and the lounge, the soft glow of fire dancing hotly down his taut chest. He looked divine, arched as a Greek God across from my tempting hands.

"You said that I was the best looking man you had ever seen".

"That's a lie" I snorted, letting my head loll back at his laughter.

"How about the most beautiful man you've ever seen?" He grinned widely, painting minstrels of white to the burning fire. His question hung freely somewhere between us, allowing laughter to take care of us both.

"That title went to Johnny Depp a long time ago, sorry".

"That so?" He laughed, shifting so the rug was pressed to his chest, his left arm coming to drape over my thighs. The flames drank us in, my hair already so red tumbling across my pale bare shoulders.

I felt happy, and his hand pressed warmly to my thigh, letting me know he was still here, always there, and always loving.

The joking tone sunk like a rapid storm upon his face, replaced by wild thunders of concern. He looked serious, and his face became creased in such manner, "Emma?"

I sat up, my palms buried deeply in the white rug, my worries sinking to the pit of my stomach. "Yes?"

He glanced up, the concern that held his warily voice also present in his grey-blue eyes. It read of fear, crashing through the darkness, allowing only that one person that breathed it, felt it, and knew it, to come undone in its manipulative hands.

"I've had a lovely week".

He smiled softly, and within that, I too found release in his salvation. We had come to acknowledge the other with complete adoration, maturing in our understanding this past week and I had grown to love it, finally feeling secure in one other relationship that made up my life."Me too".

"We kind of got lost in all this baby talk didn't we?"

I acknowledged this news sadly, nodding as his eyes sympathetically fell to the floor. Just like that, silence became a friend once more, allowing the most simplistic of words to abandon us.

"I don't want to not think about it though Will".

He shot up, wide eyed, his body wildly leaping off the rug as if he had just been burnt. "Don't you think we need a little time as 'us'?" He fumbled in his pockets, looking more like a boy of fifteen rather than a man in his early thirties.

I was shy, hesitant in my quest to find my voice. "Yes I do" I whispered, turning on my side so I faced him. He looked at me questioningly, his eyes narrowing in concentration. "I just think it's something to consider, that's all."

"For when I make you my wife?"

And then it came, his words artfully tumbling out as if they were my own. I smiled, accepting myself and our fate, remembering my words and his last night; exchanges of man and wife in the least official way possible. We basked in this for a moment, slipping beside each other closely as we relished in just the holding of each other's hands and fingers, acceptance finally being caught.

"For when you make me your wife".

And he smiled not long after, his happiness etched to his face without removal.

"If Johnny Depp doesn't get there first" I added, smirking as his hand lightly smacked me on my stomach.

"I don't wear eyeliner as good as him, I'll give you that."

I grinned, running my hand softly through his hair. "You have better hair".

"And better lips" He added, for good measure. His lips pursed proudly in smugness.

"How do you know that?" My tone toyed with him playfully, my bottom lip being sucked provocatively between my teeth.

"He's average" Will moved closer, his hand pressed firmly to my hip, "I tried it, he's not that great at kissing". Another hand came to touch, conveying his motives. _I want to touch you, kiss you and kiss you some more_.

"That so?" My eyebrow rose inquisitively, teasing his bottom lips with my fingers.

He moaned as I dragged my tongue agonisingly slow against his lip, feeling his warm breath escape his nose.

"Your better than Johnny Depp?"

"God yeah, now just kiss me".

I nodded in agreement, feeling his appreciation as my lips replaced words. He tenderly latched to my mouth, slipping his skilful tongue through my parted, pink lips, the tongue that only just this morning caused me to moan and thrust delightfully.

He came to lean in closer so our bodies folded to each other, physically aching to be as much as the other as possible. Warm, blessed heat swarmed round us, the flames flicking their tendered light across our youthful act that refused to go to bed.

"I love your lips" and I pulled them between my teeth, sucking them gently to mark my point.

He allowed his eyes to slip shut, his enjoyment scrawled along his flesh like fresh ink to a parchment; each mark scattered but still accounted for and wanted.

Our limbs ached and became wrapped in each others, tangled like the pathways to the present.

"I want to take you away somewhere".

My lips became cool, pulling away from his pink and puffed up lips. He looked like he had been kissed a lot and my mouth was stained from each touch.

"Away, like on a vacation?" My wide, brown eyes questioned his, looking deeply for the answers that surfaced as soft as the fallen drop of rain.

"Just for a weekend or something, just for us to be ourselves away from here. So we can possibly plan for other things as well." He trailed off, his eyes glancing at the four different coloured pamphlets on the table, each letter shaped to a word that printed out our future.

"I'd like that" I whispered to his inviting lobe, wrapping my arms round his neck to pull him even closer, allowing our lips to paint the others, each lip and touch a canvas of new art and life.

"Now make love to me, Will."

* * *

><p>I hope everyone has enjoyed this chapter, it was more of a smutty filler but I think it was necessary to show them rekindling their intimacy. They are going away to a wooden cabin in the next couple of chapters and although I know what conversations are going to be held, I'd love any input on activities they can do. I write for all of you out there, and a special thanks again to those that review. Its fabulous to receive such positive feedback.<p> 


	17. Introductions

A burst pipe and a shortage of labor meant our weekend away was extended to a week. So that was where we headed, exactly three weeks from the day that our bodies had made love to each other, lips lingering for as long as possible, elegantly poised for rediscovery. Things had returned to where they had belonged, before devastation had pressed its unruly hand to us. Complications sank alongside the last drops of February; warm, windy evenings now seeking us as our passionate mouths met in the kitchen, the couch, anywhere that our hands would allow us to love.

We had arrived on the Friday night; our bodies tired like the hot, tyre marks scorched upon the beaten down roads. We had no time to explore as our eyes submerged to darkness, like the sinking rocks that fell to the lake, energetic young hands throwing them a distance they couldn't withstand. Instead, we just tumbled into the queen size bed on the second floor, forgoing shared showers that could wait for the suns' call.

In the morning, the curtains allowed several inches of sun to dust the small, cream coloured room, its golden smile indulging us in a new day. The little wooden lodge sat on the edge of Danville, Kentucky, watching over the beautiful lake and nearby dirt tracks, perfect for exploring the stirring warmth of the starts of spring and the sinking sun as it roamed the skies in affection, painting the sky with is glowing pinks and blues.

It was such a display that when we curled up on the porch swing that second night, the warmth of the blanket welcome upon our aching thighs; we could just enjoy some time for us, recalling the beauty of the beginning stages to our relationship, how maturity had met us like an old friend as the days went by, granting us its blessing to partake in a relationship that would change its title over the years to come. Opportunity sought us out that night as faint words were whispered to the wind, tumbling over us with the constant breath of air, our bodies feeling all the more lighter for it. It was settled that tomorrow at lunch we'd talk properly, fit the words that came by so easily this evening into lines and sentences that would write the next few chapters of our lives. And what poetry it would be, beautiful scrawls of handwritten sheet music next to the art of a one year old whose favourite colour is anything red.

On the third morning we undressed to the sun, its smouldering heat baking down on our sensuous flesh as we made love on the balcony, hearts tied with alluding desire. His hands had been under my top before I had fully woken, and soon his lips had rested on mine delightfully, my long, slender legs wrapping tenderly round his thighs as he carried me outside, peeling each article off my body passionately that just to feel his soft skin adoring me felt wonderful. My back had arched to the railings, his eyes illustrating my body like that of an artist to a canvas, taken delight in each touch to his work. It was beautiful, neither of us caring about watchful eyes and lively surroundings. I let myself go free, my normal uptake in panic unravelling as the seasons of nature, constantly changing, forever moving. For once, I felt part of nature too.

That afternoon we had planned to wander through the forests that day, settling upon a small, secluded pub that the brochure had recommended for lunch. As Will showered, I slipped in some much needed essentials for our journey; a map, two bottles of water, sun screen for my alopecia-white skin and the four brightly coloured leaflets that had continued with us on our journey.

He stepped down the wooden staircase that had worn over time, a towel wrapped round his lower half. He eventually reached the bottom, smiling brightly as he caught me in his sight and it was such a change to see his youth finally accept him, allowing him to be the man he always was, without the mental chains shackled to his heart. Slipping behind me, his wet, warm arms wrapping around my waist, I felt my chest tightened, breath escaping irregularly. We seemed so young now, now that we had finally understood where we were in this and it brought my mind to bliss, thinking of the possibilities our conversation at lunch would be. A door shut to the past, the future encapsulating an essence of wondered prospect.

My lips aired with confidence, something that felt foreign yet welcome I turned my head towards his, "You're not going out dressed like that I hope?

"I can for you" he whispered, kissing me softly on my neck. Goosebumps peppered my body as I tried to focus my attention on the last coat of mascara I still had to do and not the half naked man pressed against me.

"I think I've seen more of you with your clothes off this vacation than I have with them on!"

I turned fully round, playfully dabbing the mascara wand on his nose.

"And the problem is...?" He trailed off, mischievously taking one hand and lowering it to where his towel knotted closed.

My palm rested on top of his, my heart pounding against my chest at how close we were from doing it up against a stranger's wall. "Later. Right now I want to get out of the house."

He sulked for a second, his lip turning over. "Just one kiss?"

I rolled my eyes, laughing whilst admiring the child within him. He lowered his lips, running his long, pink tongue against my bottom lip and suddenly he was all adult again, his lips seductively demanding the attention of my entire body.

His hands were strong as he pressed me back against the wall, his left hand pressed desirably into my hipbone, igniting a moan that growled against him. His towel slipped, and later on he would protest it was an accident but in that moment, the long walk and the pub was temporarily suspended, our warm, hot bodies more concerned with each other than the lemons and greens of spring.

Once we had set out on our walk, our bodies flushed despite the early heat of March, we found ourselves pleasantly drawn to the world around us. We smiled politely at passersby; a couple with their dog, a group of four cycling and a family of three, the little girl we came to hear as Charlotte skipping hurriedly ahead, chasing a squirrel that scurried deep into the bushes. I could see how his eyes changed, following the girl with regretful amusement. He moved his hand, finding my hold as a comfort for his longing. He smiled sadly, his thumb brushing against my fingers as the family soon went by and we were alone again, the little girl's footprints still sunk in the ground.

We got to the 'Oak Tree' around one, the sun drawn high in the sky. We ordered and sat, finding a secluded area away from the rowdy group of men sat by the bar drinking. There was another young couple sat just across from us and they acknowledged our presence with a smile, grateful to find themselves no longer alone in a pub swarming with half-cut burly men.

It was in the way our hands lay, each vein and nerve tranquilized with fear. It was in our eyes and our hearts, the leaflets that only looked like papers becoming a focused centre we orbited around. We knew we had to talk, and the moment the word 'adoption' sung from his lips, change had begun.

We talked through the leaflets, each letter imprinting to memory. It was difficult, and the acceptance we had finally found was tested, wondering why us, what had we done to warrant such misfortune. And then we reached the finality of our points, the last marked words lay down as my glass touched the table.

"I think this is the best route for us". He eyed me inquisitively, raising the glassed pint to his eager lips as the leaflets rested open in front of us.

"Are you sure we shouldn't consider the other option more Emma?"

I shook my head in response, cancelling out the possibility of a donor. His eyes cast over with pain, but his body sighed with a blessed relief. I knew it would have killed him, to see my body grow as he hands curved round my bump, picturing a little boy or girl that resembled me and none of him. It was selfish, but I didn't blame him either. If the roles had reversed, struggle would have fought me till the end, not resting until my body lay bruised and defeated.

"No, if I can't carry your child Will then I don't want to carry anybody else's, and with adoption, I think it will be easier".

His eyes lit up, reaching across the table for my hand. "You're the most selfless person I have ever met, God I just love you".

I waved my hands in the air, discarding his words, "no Will, I just love you and I want a baby that is both of us, not just me. Adopting a baby will be just that, related or not, they'll be ours".

His eyes mourned, as his head rested against his large palm. He looked regretful, lost in thoughts that I wasn't sure were going to do us any good. He was in pain, reliving the doctor's diagnosis and wind that swept away his dusted dreams of 'his' family.

"She had red hair, in my dreams; our little girl had your red hair".

Dangerous talk, I grieved for us both, wanting to protect the shattered pieces of our hearts. But still he latched, his long fingers sinking to hold onto his dreams a minute, or an hour longer. He was physically trying, trying to remember the faces he had painted at night, the nights he'd read story to his auburn haired princess and how perfect live would have been before his own collateral storm.

"I'm sure she was very beautiful". I nodded, turning to avoid him. I explored the pub with my eyes, a log fire, photos of animals hung from the walls, the couple who had long since finished eating sat chatting quietly in the corner, a pint in his hand, water in hers.

"She looked like you". Uncomfortably, I bit my lip, staring at him straight in the eye, absorbing his sorrow as if it were my own. He looked troubled, plagued by his own misfortune. He would make a wonderful father, his only discomfort lay in the fact that they wouldn't look like us.

"Excuse me?" I turned round, half-startled by the blonde haired woman behind me. My eyes were wide, and she just looked sorry, smiling politely and unsurely. "Sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you, I was just wondering if we could borrow your desert menu, Adam's hungry again!"

"Sure" I smiled, passing her the laminated menu. She acknowledged it with thanks, her eyes falling on the four leaflets that gave away so much to a stranger. In discomfort I wanted to hide them, my hand aching to slip them discreetly into my bag and throw it in the lake. She didn't seem judgemental though, and the look she gave us both was one I couldn't quite place.

She almost looked, happy.

"Thank you again, I'll bring it back in a second."

And off she went, rejoining her husband in the corner that eyed the menu up with such enthusiasm. I kept feeling her stare, and as off putting as it was, I felt something in it, something that needed not to be feared.

We stayed for a while longer, sorrow not far from our hearts. Eventually settling upon adoption, we began to exit the building, just wanting to escape the finality of our decision and spend some time as us again. It was fearful excitement that enthralled us and we made plans to revisit this decision once we returned home. For now though, I just wanted him to take me down to the lake, allow his hands to graze at my ashen bare body as we submerged ourselves under velvets of tranquillity. His hands would touch, roam under my bikini straps and bottoms, avoiding my stomach where life could have chosen to grow.

"I'm proud of us Emma" he whispered, his hand running over the crown of my head, "it feels right". And it did, the months of angst finally setting us free.

Honestly, I gave a response, taking in his smile that revelled between upset and happiness. "We'll be a family".

And as dysfunctional as our lives had began, this would be the piece that slotted like the last, lost, found jigsaw square we had hunted for, for so long.

"Sorry to bother you again", her hair shone through the sun, a splash of golden against the green of her top. "I saw you had left this behind".

I had presumed her nails to be manicured, painted at least to go with her elegant features. Her long blonde hair, piercing blue eyes, she looked beautiful under natural light, her body hazed with sun-kissed glow. But her nails surprised me, chewed down as if they had long given up. I thought it was odd, just for a moment and I craved more off this woman, intrigue possessing my body as a thirst for more.

"Thank you" Will replied, taking the green leaflet named '_Adoption: is it for you?_' from her unkempt hands. She coughed uncomfortably, almost as if she didn't want to leave and I granted her that moment with a smile. She stood there, as did we, paralyzed by the green paper in Will's hand, staring at our future as if it were her own.

"Evie? I was just coming to find you!" He stared at his wife intensely, smoothing her hair out as Will had done to me not moments before. He then looked up, eyes containing a similar sort of sorrow to his wife. "Hi, I'm Adam, nice to meet you".

And we welcomed his hand, an introduction becoming recognized.

* * *

><p>Every single review I receive is so exciting to read, I can't thank you all enough! If your still enjoying it, I'd love to hear from you, even if its just a few words, they really do make my day!<p> 


	18. Proposals

That evening, as the sun submerged itself to night, a bottle of wine was shared among three, the cork allowing personalities to flow with crimson, stories that would reveal character and self. We didn't mean to stay so long, but the hours had fallen fast, and we had found ourselves under the flickering porch light of the Portland's rented cabin around nine, jokes about the football season being thrown about between the men. Eve remained tight lipped, but always so pleasant, circling her glass of water between her fingers, almost as if she was on the verge of sadness.

The hot swell of the evening heat heaved itself upon us as Eve and I travelled round the back, leaving the laughs and shouts of the men who showed such adoration for us.

"They get on well don't you think?"

We sat on the swinging bench, and I folded my legs beneath me, smoothing the skirt over my thighs. The air twitched with sensory fears, how the words we were about to share became a sharing of souls that ached for the other to understand them, to read them, cover to cover, word for word. They were complicated, and twisted, just like the prose I had studied in my youth. But they were honest, and meaning would soon find us, and a conclusion, a much welcomed conclusion would be reached.

"Will loves people; he has such a big heart".

I smiled, because it felt right to do so, and love showed itself to me once more, causing my cheeks to dust over with a light shade of pink.

She smiled too, taking a sip of chilled water from her glass. She then sighed, rubbing her eyes softly as though her body was burdened. I wanted to reach out, to brush my long fingers against her shoulder as I had done so many times before to my students. But this was different, something registered in her eyes that she didn't want to be touched, didn't need comfort or sympathy.

So I let her be, letting the moment breeze by.

I found out later, she just needed a friend.

"Emma?" she asked, after a short time had passed. She seemed shyly embarrassed because this confiding was so new to us both, both of us being chained down by the chill of our pasts.

"Are you okay?"

A lone tear slid down her cheek as her meek laugh defended her. Quickly, just as the tear had descended, she wiped it away, leaving only a trail of dotted mascara in its place. "Yeah, I just, things are so hard for us at the moment."

I hadn't even known her 24 hours and yet the comparison was drinkable. We both took another sip, water against wine before confessions spread like wildfire.

_I'm pregnant._

_We can't have children._

_We're giving the baby up for adoption._

_We want to adopt._

The agony of confession had somewhat eased and yet air wasn't enough, as we inhaled each other's sadness. What could we say now? I waited patiently for her to break the silence, biting my lip as my tongue sought hope in another woman's need. It felt dangerous to do so, and in that I grieved silently.

She sighed again, but this time, she placed her hand on her stomach, finally allowing her secret to show itself to all.

"It's not that we don't want the baby, it's just-" She took a moment, burying her hands in her little brown bag, as though more secrets were to about be spilled. Out of her purse, she pulled out a worn looking photo, a young boy about nine or ten sleeping. I saw her eyes, how sweetly they gazed over the child and I knew, I knew why she couldn't keep this baby.

"He hates the flash, or even looking at the camera."

Her most intimate of details were given to me as a treasure and I felt no words could show how much sorrow I felt for her.

"We spend all our days making sure every routine is followed through, at each time we do the same thing just to make sure he's ok, how can we bring a baby into the equation, and what if they have it too?"

"What's his name?" It seemed such a simple thing to ask, and compared to the heartache that had been offered, it probably was. But it seemed humane to ask, to understand her son as her son and not through his mental illness.

"Ryan."

"When did you find out about his - condition?"

"My mother noticed he was, somewhat different. He wouldn't talk, look at anyone, and as she told us, I wanted to hate myself for being so blind to it. Two years and I didn't acknowledge my son had autism, how could I not?" she cried.

She was a mother in pain, still feeling the agonizing memories of denial.

"It's not your fault Eve" I wrapped my arm loosely around her, and she took the comfort willingly, resting her head close into my lap.

The faint laughter could be heard from the inside, as the gust of wind battered against the glass. I still held Eve, even as the laughter stopped and the door swung open, revealing both men.

At first, I wondered what they wanted, because Will held his expression while Adam overlooked his wife's grief. After one short moment, and a now composed Eve sat to my right, they both approached us, Will reaching for my hand as he asked me to go with him somewhere.

Wanting to make sure Eve was ok before I left, I promised to return tomorrow, and the day after, until our vacation ended on Saturday, three days from now. Had Eve of entered my life years ago, we would have been friends, and it felt good to acknowledge this because my life had been scarce of friends for so long. She was sweet and fragile, and just like me, the past still roamed her dreams, like daggers in the dark. But as the wind tickled us lightly with its breath, and Eve's tears started to dry, we both knew we shared something special, something that went beyond mothers abandonment, mental illnesses.

We had love in our lives.

"They're sweet, don't you think?" Will's face peeled itself from the white of the moonlight to nod, holding my hand closer into his. He seemed distracted, but his hand held tighter, and harder, while his other rested in his pocket. I wondered what he and Adam had laughed and shared over as we walked down the curve of the lake, to the small wooden deck the children dived off in the baked haze of the day.

Once we had reached the edge, he took both my hands in his. His face read of a thousand things, but none of them came to light just yet as his lips lowered to mine, passionately sharing himself with me. Under the moon was a perfect setting for what was about to happen, but being so occupied, feeling his lips wet and hot on mine, feeling the curve of his bicep, the thrill as my nails dragged slowly down his chiselled front I didn't register the box in his hand as I pulled away. Flustered by my own body it took me a second to gage what was happening, why his knee was on the ground, and why his eyes glowed to mine.

And then there was a ring in the box he held. An engagement ring.

The moment consumed me, and my body began to wildly shake as his other hand grasped hold of mine lightly.

"Emma, we have never needed this ring to show people that you'll be my wife, because I look to you now and see everything I have ever wanted. I see my wife already, officially or not, I see our child or children already, officially or not because you are the only one I ever want to be with. Always and forever."

My heart felt worn out, exasperated in this very moment.

"Will, I-" Words couldn't come, my tongue tied down.

"But I want you to wear this ring anyway, because even though I'll tell everyone that I'm yours and your mine, tell strangers that I'm in love with you, I want you to look down at this ring on your finger and see me, and see my love for you. I'll tell you every day I love you, but if we have to be apart for the night, or a week, I want you to always know you have a little bit of my love with you at all times. So Emma Pillsbury will you-"

"Yes! Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!" I shouted, so overcome by shock that I couldn't wait a moment longer.

And he slid the silver band on my finger, curling his fingertips over the diamond.

And there it was, a future Mrs Schuester.

"It's beautiful Will". Tears fell as I continuingly stared down at his promise, the light capturing its essence of unity. It was beautiful and ours, and as he stood up fully, cupping my cheek in his, I just wanted to love him wholly and fully.

"Have you ever done it overlooking a lake before?" My question was tempting, as the slight wave in the water lapped up against the deck. His eyes were drawn naked, and as he laughed he removed my cardigan, and his top, placing them across the wood before lowering me down.

"There's a first time for everything _Mrs Schuester_". His lips wrapped around mine, as my hand pressed coolly to his back, touching his golden tanned skin. It was exciting, and the wind brushed its approval over us as his lips went lower, and lower, peeling back my blouse and replacing the fabric with something much hotter and fitting against my skin.

When my blouse was off, his hands cupped my breasts, letting his tongue brush over them with trepidation. It felt hot and I could feel myself getting wetter with each touch he placed to my chest. I stared at my ring again, looking at the way it glided perfectly over my husband to be, and how right the band felt on my finger unlike the other two. It fit, and I never wanted to let him go for he was the one, the one that made me feel so bold and brave. And the one who was going to make love to me outside on the deck.

"This is so hot" I whispered, his hand dipping up my skirt. He was hungry for each touch, but intimacy was never forgotten, and so his hand brushed gently over my panties, up and down the juncture of my thighs and hips, and eventually, his hand succumbed to my wetness.

"Let me" I whispered, breathing hotly to his ear. I climbed on top of him, admiring his body, and bare flesh, wanting to rake my tongue wetly across it, allowing my teeth to graze over his nipples, his hips, just everywhere.

My hand travelled lower, unbuckling his belt and then lowering the metallic zip lower and lower until his jeans were off and so were his boxers.

I looked at him, my eyes tracing where the moon left its shadow on his chest.

"I've never loved you more Will", and I kissed his chest, the skin that rested above his heart.

"I'll never love you any less".

His tongue ran the length of his lips, dampening them with his touch. Slowly, he peeled off my panties and skirt, allowing my body to be fully consumed as the lake started to ripple.

Three hours we made love, and after planting new memories there, we headed up to our bed secured by a ring on my finger, and his lips tightly on mine.

* * *

><p>So sorry for the delay, life has been kind of hectic and will be over the the next few coming weeks as I move house, and start up at uni again. I'll try and update as soon as possible cause this story has only got a few more chapters to go, and I hope you're all willing to stay with it!<p>

A big thank you goes to all of you that take the time to review and who have previously or recently pre read my work before I've posted. Your opinions really do count so thank you.


End file.
